


Take Me Out

by rainier_day



Series: Take Me Out [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, code names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 13:26:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 52,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18389333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainier_day/pseuds/rainier_day
Summary: For a single city, there sure are a lot of hired killers—like, per square foot.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A light-hearted hitmen au no one asked for.
> 
> This fic was conceived while listening to Scissor Sisters on repeat so imagine something jaunty like "I Don't Feel Like Dancin" or "I Can't Decide" playing in the background during fight scenes

“Bush Man, the target's moving down the hallway to your right, if you push him closer to the windows by the grand hall I'll have a clear shot—you can reply to this message!”

He immediately regrets agreeing to code names. Turning the corner, he continues down as stealthily as he can, muttering, “If we are going to continue with code names, we may need to use something else, Goblina.”

“Alright, Cay-Cay. Wait, shit! There's someone there! Hurry! Go kill him! You can reply to this message!”

“Scheiße!” Caleb scowls and breaks into a run, fire bolts ready at the tips of his fingers.

At the sound of his footsteps, the target turns with a startled expression on his face, but then he freezes as a shadow moves behind him. The man lets out a gurgled breath and crumbles to the ground, a pair of bloodied, gleaming swords behind him.

Under the moonlight cascading through the lavishly large windows in the grand hall, Caleb sees a familiar colourful cloak and ornate mask.

The figure glances down at the target and back up at him before waving their gloved fingers in greeting. Even underneath the perpetual gleeful smile of the mask, he's certain that the owner is wearing a matching grin as they quickly swoop down and snatches the pocket watch from the man's pockets—the proof of kill required for the bounty.

Under the hood of his own cloak and the half-elf disguise he has up, Caleb scowls and lets loose his spell. But they've danced this particular song and number too many times, and the figure merely flips out of the way before waving again. Before he can ready another attack, his vision goes black. He takes a step back, scrubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands. When his sight returns, the masked figure is already at the end of the hall, too far for his spells to reach with any accuracy.

Before the killer can disappears fully into the shadows, Caleb raises a hand to gesture to Nott, his sharpshooter and partner in crime to stand down. Bringing out the piece of copper wire, he slinks away into the shadows and whispers, “It is too late. We cannot risk attracting more attention. Nonagon got this one. Please keep an eye out while I go visit the library. You can reply to this message.”

“You got it, Cay-Cay. We should probably clear out soon. People are going to start noticing the dead guards outside. That bush definitely wasn’t big enough to hide both their bodies.”

He flashes her an okay sign and takes off down the hall to where the library had been labelled in the blueprints they found. If they couldn't get gold for the job, he'll at least help himself to some books.

\--

It's the middle of the night when they return to their quarters. Nott quickly shucks her cloak off and plops down wearily on her bed. “I can't believe Nonagon stole our kill! How many times is that now?”

Caleb manages to kick his boots off unceremoniously and sits down on his own bed, pulling his latest acquisitions from his bag. With care, he stacks the books on his end table and snaps his cat to his side. “That would be the third,” he tells her, scratching Frumpkin behind the ear, “and we have taken two of theirs so far.”

“Do you think the Charm was down the hall waiting to run in and kill everyone again?” she asks him excitedly, arms out to mimic sword swings.

He shakes his head. “Nein, I do not think that is how they normally operate. That last job was nasty business and we were lucky they provided such a good distraction.” His mind flashes back to that broad, imposing figure with the lanky, dexterous Nonagon, similarly masked and cloaked, swinging a great sword and bringing down two guards with one swipe.

Nott huffs. “Imagine if the others got involved.”

“I suppose we will know if the Ball-Eaters visited if we hear about dicks everywhere tomorrow,” Caleb sighs. As amusing as the thought is, he doesn't have the energy to do much with it.

“You know, for a single city, there sure are a lot of hired killers—like, per square foot. Do you think Rexxentrum will be worse?” Nott asks, weariness seeping into her voice.

Caleb pulls off his own cloak, followed by his usual scarf and coat. “Undoubtedly. That is why we chose to start here instead. Little steps.” Lying on his side, he glances over at the already-sleeping goblin and smiles. “Gute Nacht, Goblina.”

\--

The next day finds him opening his eyes and squinting at the midday sun as the knocking at the door continues. Throwing off the covers he'd pulled over himself sometime during the night, he shuffles to the door with Frumpkin winding around his legs and opens it to find a familiar half-elven woman.

“Your weekly subscription, sir,” she tells him, handing him a bottle.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he nods and digs through his pockets for money to pay her. “Ja, danke.”

Without another word, she takes the coin and leaves.

Closing the door, he sets the bottle of liquor down on their dining table and yawns, running a hand through his hair. From the corner of his eye, he sees Nott lowering her crossbow and crawling out from under her covers.

Unceremoniously, she walks over and plops herself down on one of their creaky old chairs and reaches for the bottle. “Let's see who the new batch are.”

She carefully peels the label off and unfolds the piece of paper, splaying it on the table. Standing behind her, Caleb looks over her head and notes, “Our target and two others are gone. We know Nonagon got ours, but perhaps the Ball-Eaters got one of the other two?”

While he doesn't know too much about other groups active in the city, they've run into the Ball-Eaters on the job enough times to build some rapport with the odd trio, especially between Nott and Lady Fancypants, the team's muscles and healer.

“Which ones are the new ones?” Nott asks.

Caleb easily points three new bounties out. “This one looks like something you might like. A small retrieval job for 500 gold pieces and the possibility of more.”

Following his finger, Nott stands up in her chair and leans over the table. Watching her narrow her golden eyes and bringing her ears back in concentration fills him with warmth and pride. “‘ _Killing is optional and disposal of the body is a must. No other rules apply_ ,’” she reads. “You're right, Caleb, it does sound like one of mine! Let's take it!”

He smiles a little smile at her enthusiasm. “All in good time. First, we should eat. Maybe we can scope out the building and the target later, ja?”

She beams at him, all jagged teeth and affection. “That sounds like great plan, Caleb.”

\--

Their day mostly goes by uneventfully. They make their way around the city of Zadash, scope out their target's house, and restock on some of their necessities. He even manages to plow through one of the stolen books. By the time the sun starts setting, he adds the book, an ultimately tragic romance novel between a Crossguard and a triton, to his growing collection on the shelf.

Coffers still well stocked from their last successful job, Caleb asks, “Do you have a preference for dinner, Nott?”

“We haven't been to Molly's in a while,” Nott suggests, looking up from her alchemy set, her newly filled flask sitting precariously next to her. “Unless you wanted to eat somewhere quieter?”

He shakes his head. “Nein, that’s fine. Maybe there will be a show tonight and we can get good seats if we get there early enough. Finish what you’re doing and we can make a night of it—just, try not to burn another hole in the floor.”

One vial of acid later, the two of them find themselves back on the streets of Zadash, making their way over to Fletching and Moondrop's Tavern of Curiosities. Even from outside, it's easy to see that the small tavern is starting to fill with people from all parts of Zadash, each entering under the scrutiny of the large woman stationed by the door. Paying their fee for the show, the two of them manage to secure a table in the back corner.

“I'll get us drinks and dinner!” Nott offers, jumping out of her chair, still disguised as a halfling woman.

Caleb watches her expertly weave around the crowd and disappear towards the bar where the lavender tiefling is currently working. Mollymauk Tealeaf—or Molly to everyone in the city, is impossible to miss. He watches the endlessly colourful tiefling grab a bottle of liquor with his tail, filling a glass while idly chatting up an elven woman.

Infamous more for scandalous rumours than actual doings (that Caleb knows of), Molly's presence alone helps drum up business for this little tavern. As if sensing his gaze, Molly turns and arches a brow pointedly at him, amused.

Calen quickly turns away, instantly reminded of one night when they watched Mollymauk take a client to a back room and returned a while later looking quite mussed up.

Maybe not all mere rumours, he thinks to himself.

Turning his attention back to the stage, he watches a half-orc set the little platform up, bodily keeping the patrons behind some invisible line. One table of three seems to have crossed the line somehow and Caleb watches a young human woman in blue try to argue her way out of moving back any further. The half-orc doesn't relent and eventually, the entire table is pushed back and the blue tiefling looks put out while another lankier half-orc comforts her.

“Caleb, I've got the drinks! They'll bring us the food when it's ready!” Nott exclaims, slamming two tankards onto the table.

He slides one of the ales over and nurses it. “Danke, Nott. It looks like they're about ready to start the show.”

Nott smiles at him, her illusory grin a little too wide for the average halfling. “I was offered a reading. Did you know that was a menu item here? Molly said he'd give me the first card on the house and then five copper pieces for a basic reading.”

Caleb shakes his head, not risking another glance over to the bar. “Nein, I did not know they offered that here. Did you do it?”

“No, we got interrupted. I didn't want one anyway,” she reassures him. “I bet it's all nonsense. It’s not like he’s that charismatic up close anyway.”

“Is that so? Well, I'm sure you could find time to get one later if you wanted to,” he tells her.

Nott perks up for a moment before shaking her head and emptying half her drink. “It’s fine! I said I didn't want one.”

He tempers his smile into something more neutral and nods. “Alright. We can always come back on another day if you change your mind.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome,” a thin half-elf man announces from the stage, immediately bringing the building to a hush. “And welcome back to some of you. I am Gustav Fletching, here to bring you our show tonight. Is everybody ready?”

Cheers fills the tavern.

Gustav smiles. “Excellent. We do ask that you refrain from calling out during the show. Touching and all contact with our performers is prohibited and you _will_ be escorted out. If you're standing, please be kind to those behind you. And of course, enjoy. Starting our night off, we have Toya!”

The lights dim and a dwarven girl emerges from the back with a smile. And then her voice fills the room.

The song is as enthralling as the Caleb remembers. Sitting there with his ale in his hand, he only faintly notices two plates of food being placed in front of him, the smell of freshly cooked meat wafting around them.

Then the song ends and he blinks out of his stupor. Nott immediately shoves her face into her dinner as if racing to finish everything before the next act. Less hurried, he takes a bite and scans the room, noticing activity by the dimly lit bar.

Caleb sees Molly talking to the human with the painted face and shaking his head, gesturing at the bar and running a hand through his hair, the jewellery on his horns twinkling in the low light. Finally, his shoulders sag in resignation and he shoos the man away.

Gustav returns to the stage and announces the next act: Ornna the Fire Fairy. They watch a humanoid woman appear with two silver fans in her hands. Behind her, the man with the painted face returns from the bar and picks up a fiddle.

One by one, they watch the acts, managing to finish their meals all the while. Towards the end of the hour, Gustav returns to the stage and tells them, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight! Our very own Mollymauk Tealeaf!”

A wave of surprised whispers ripples through the crowd.

The lights around the tavern are relit, bringing everything back into view. Parting the crowd effortlessly, Molly saunters through with a lazy grin on his face, the impatient flicker of his tail the only sign that anything may be off.

So that's what the argument at the bar was about. Something must have happened to the halfling sisters, Caleb’s mind supplies as he runs through the list of acts from previous shows.

“Caleb, I didn't know he performed. What do you think he's going to do?” Nott whispers to him.

He shakes his head. “I don't know. I wonder if _he_ knows.”

From the side, the tall woman approaches from the entrance and goes to stand to the side of the stage, daring anyone to approach.

“Looks like everyone's been having fun,” Molly's voice cuts through the murmurs. He's on the stage and surveying the crowd idly. “So, what should I do for you folks on this fine evening?”

Someone shouts a lewd comment from the back.

Molly laughs and leans against the half-orc behind him, crossing his arms. “The fee for a show like that would be _much_ more than 20 copper, my friend.” Pacing the stage, he taps his chin in a theatrical way. “I could do readings? But those are a private affair, aren't they? Much more suited for... _one-on-one_ interactions.”

There's a wolf whistle.

“Come find me later.” Winking at the crowd, the tiefling pulls out three apples from his pockets and throws them into the air. “I could juggle and do flips? But that's not very exciting.” He gently tosses the apples into the crowd.

The blue tiefling sitting in the front catches one and immediately takes a bite into it.

“So here's what I'm thinking,” Molly says. “I give you a song—some jaunty little tune. You applaud like you enjoyed it. We all call it a night and go back to drinking. Oh, and then Bo here will be up for arm wrestling matches after. Five coppers a try.”

The half-orc behind him scowls menacingly at the crowd.

“What about the big lady over there?” the woman in blue from earlier calls out.

Both Molly and Bo look over with interest, a wicked grin gracing the tiefling’s lips. “Yasha, dear, what do you think?”

The larger woman, Yasha, seems to smile faintly at the challenge. “Maybe I'll consider it at a price if you beat Bo,” she says, her voice unexpected soft. “Just a warning: I'm really fucking strong.”

“Well, I know what _I'm_ doing later.” Satisfied with the answer, the young woman sits back in her seat with a smirk. Next to her, her half-orc friend is covering his eyes and shaking his head.

“Oh, I can't wait to see _this_ ,” Molly says, eyes narrowing with laughter. “Bo. Desmond. If you’d be so kind.”

Behind him, the half-orc and the human start an upbeat song.

Caleb sees the tiefling chuckle and turn to Yasha and mouth, ‘ _I have no idea what I'm doing._ ’

She merely smiles back at him, startlingly soft and encouraging in contrast to the scowl she faced the crowd with.

Then Molly starts singing. It's not like Toya's song, mesmerizing and haunting. No, Molly sings like he's with friends around a campfire. There's cheering and clapping all around the tavern, and at the bar, Ornna is serving drinks at a rapid pace.

It’s rowdy and loud and Caleb finds himself hiding a smile behind his cup when the tiefling fumbles and making up words to fill a line. Nott is watching and singing along, having more fun than she's had all day.

When the song ends, Molly laughs and runs a hand through his hair. “Gods, this was a terrible idea. Let's never do this again.”

The crowd laughs along and applauds, whooping and raising their drinks.

“Thank you. You are much too kind. I will accept tips in the form of coin or drinks, thanks.” Taking a sweeping bow, Molly hops off the stage and weaves his way back to the bar, accompanied by Yasha, the two of them accepting all the coin offered their way.

With the show over, the patrons return to their conversations. There's a new crowd around the bar, and up on stage, people have gathered to watch Bo and the young woman arm wrestle, her blue tiefling friend cheering loudly for her from their table.

Tucked away safely in their corner, Caleb and Nott watch the night's festivities unfold. Nott turns to him and smiles, all teeth, her disguise having worn off during the show. “This was fun. I'm glad we came tonight.”

Caleb smiles at the delight reflected in her eyes. “Ja, it was good that you suggested we come here, Nott.”

He'd bring her back every night if it'd make her happy. After all, their stay in Zadash is only a temporary one, and sooner or later, they'll have bigger problems to tackle.

Shaking the foreboding thought away, Caleb gets up and offers, “I will get us another drink.”

As he wades through the crowd, he hears from the stage, “C'mon! You can do it! Get him, Little Beau!”

“Stop calling me that!”

The voices sound faintly familiar, but he's jostled from his thoughts when someone backs into him and he gets stuck in the middle of the crowd. Sidling to the side, he manages to get to an emptier section of the bar and sees Ornna looking at him with an amused smile. “If you're looking for drinks, I can help you with that. If you're looking to flirt at Molly, the line up's over there.”

Face heating up at the suggestion, Caleb quickly shakes his head. “Nein. No, I have no need for that. Just drinks, please.”

\--

The next night, they put their plan into action. Normally their jobs required more planning—more reconnaissance, but this one seemed simple enough. Go into Lord Sutan's house and steal a seal with extra payment for any correspondence collected between him and the High Richter.

With the gala being held in the Tri-Spires, they had no choice but to take advantage of the event and act.

Scurrying their way through the sewers towards the Gilded Willows, they pause for a moment in an alley a block away from the mansion to don their disguises. “Alright, let's try to make this quick. Within the hour if possible.”

They sneak by a pair of Crownsguard patrolling the streets and nearly jump out of their skin when thunder suddenly booms in the distance. Caleb looks up at the sky to see the moons hidden behind thick clouds.

More thunder echoes in the distance and there's something off about them that he can't quite put his finger on.

“Cay-Cay,” Nott hisses, signaling for him to approach.

He should've just gone with 'Philip’.

Tiptoeing around the corner to her, Caleb follows her gaze up the tree, eyes widening when he spots a length of rope taut and tethered to the roof of the house. “I guess that is our way in.”

“Do you think it's a trap?” Nott asks.

Calen shakes his head, remembering the suspicious thunder they heard earlier. “Nein, I think it's competition.”


	2. Chapter 2

They're both staring at the tethered piece of rope leading to the roof. Caleb rubs the back of his neck and asks, “Well, Goblina? I do not think they have gotten very far but we can turn around and choose a different job if you want.”

Nott seems to consider the out for a moment before shaking her head and brandishing her crossbow wildly. “Let's do it. I bet we can catch up to them! We'll kill whoever gets in our way!”

He quickly brings a finger to his lips to quiet her. “Alright, let's hurry then.”

The two of them climb up the tree and shimmy over the yard of patrolling guards onto the roof. Nott easily skitters over to the hole that'd been dug through loose shingles and rotten wood. Caleb struggles a bit more, carefully trying not to displace any of the tiles with his weight.

After teetering for a bit, he manages to crawl into the hole, sending a faint globe of light ahead of him. They follow the passage down and down and down, following the trail on the dusty floor left behind by whoever went before them. Nott sneezes into his coat twice, doing her best to muffle the sound.

Unable to see the mess through his disguise, Caleb shrugs it off and continues, eventually finding an opening that drops into a hallway. There are quiet voices coming from a dimly lit room up ahead.

Before he can stop her, Nott runs ahead and presses herself up against the doorframe and peers in. “Oh! Lady Fancypants!”

“Goblina!” Caleb hears, and then Nott disappears into the room.

He jogs after her, finding the Ball-Eaters standing around the edge of room. The little old lady waves enthusiastically at him, unnaturally spry for her appearance. “Hallo,” he mutters sheepishly, giving a half wave back.

The old woman grins, her missing teeth in stark contrast to Nott's mouthful of jagged fangs. “Hello, Dirty Drifter,” she says in a voice far too young. “We haven't seen you in a while.”

Nott turns to him. “I like that! You can be Dirty Drifter from now on!”

Caleb shrugs. “I would also be fine with ‘Philip’.”

Fancypants excitedly turns to her cloaked friend. “A normal name! That'd be like you, Tracy!”

The monk puts her staff down and shrugs stiffly. He wonders if she can see through that hefty war mask at all, but she seems to nod in his direction just fine. “Hey, I'm Tracy.”

“Ja, we've met before. Philip, or Dirty Drifter, I guess,” he returns. “And Tusktooth, right?”

“ _Captain_ Tusktooth,” Fancypants tells him. “Or Oskar’s fine too.”

The old man, probably also another disguise, stifles a sigh and nods. “Pleasure working with you two again.”

Caleb nods back, clapping his hands together. “Sure. So what is happening here?”

Fancypants points at the rug on the floor and explains, “We think the vault's under the rug but we're pretty sure it's trapped.”

“Wait, are we working with them just like that?” Tracy asks.

“Why not? Dirty Drifter is magic, like, _so_ much more magic than you, Oskar, no offense.”

Tusktooth winces at the jab but then shrugs. “A little taken but point conceded.”

“And Goblina is really good with traps,” the old woman continues. “Like, if you think about it, technically, these two are way more suited for this job than us, technically.”

“We did the distraction and rope though,” the monk points out, sounding a little put out.

Caleb nods along appeasingly, wanting nothing more than to get this job over with. “That was actually very helpful, so thank you for doing that. Now if you will excuse me, we are in a bit of a hurry so please let me check for magic.”

“I'll check for traps!” Nott offers.

Casting his spell, he peers around the room. Fancypants and Tusktooth immediately light up with their disguises and enchanted items. The fireplace, the cabinet, and the rug all glow, which has him frowning as he tells the others, “Do not touch the rug and someone should look around the fireplace.”

It doesn't take long for them to disarm the trigger attached to the fireplace and in their eagerness, they watch helplessly as Fancypants and Nott move the rug out of the way. “There's a trap door!” they call out as the rug behind them seems to shake to life.

Cursing under his breath, Caleb immediately fires a Scorching Ray at the rug as it latches onto Nott, dragging her towards it. Around him, the Ball-Eaters also spring into action, sending blasts of magic at the monster but it doesn't seem deterred.

“Oh fuck!” Nott manages to get in a shot before it smothers her completely, muffling her yells.

Caleb's eyes widen. He quickly runs through his list of spells, looking for something to free his partner or at least hit the rug without hurting her.

In front of him, a large lollipop suddenly appears and slams down on the rug. He frowns and steps forward. “Wait, you will hit her!”

Fancypants gasps. “I’m so sorry! I didn't know! Don't worry, Goblina, I'll heal you after! I'm a really good healer, you know?”

In response, a bolt flies through the creature and embeds itself into the wall.

Tusktooth sends a blast of magic at the rug, quickly muttering an apology after. To his side, Tracy looks at a loss without any ranged attacks. She looks around and frowns. “Aw, fuck it.”

“Wait, don't—” Tusktooth starts, but it's too late and the monk runs up to the carpet and slams her staff into it.

The rug immediately reaches for her and Tracy yells, “I see her!” and shoves her hand forward. “I've got her hand! Damn, she's got sharp nails for a halfing. I'm gonna try to pull her out and if this thing kills me, I'm haunting the _fuck_ out of you two.”

He's not sure which of them the threat was aimed towards, but relief floods his system at the sight of Tracy trying to pull his friend out. “Goblina, you have a dagger on you, ja?” he calls out. “It is a rug. Try cutting through it!”

“I'll give you something to aim at!” Fancypants tells her, firing a bright streak of light at the rug.

Through the thin opening, he hears Nott's furious scream, “Get me the fuck out of here!”

Suddenly, there's a tear in the seam and a dagger sticking out. The rug shudders violently and tries to double down, pulling Tracy closer in, her feet now caught in its maw. “Keep cutting, man!”

Tusktooth frowns and dashes forward, a falchion in hand. He ducks next to his compatriot and slices upward into the rug with his blade. “That is a _thick_ fucking rug,” he grunts, flexing his arm against the material.

The tip of the blade eventually emerges and he starts sawing away at it.

“Get her out and I will handle the rest,” he orders, an idea springing to mind.

Fancypants nods. “Okay, leave it to us!” She wraps her arms around Tracy's waist and pulls. They seem to be at a standstill for a moment before the rug finally gives, spitting Nott back out and the three women go flying back.

The rug reels back for a moment before regaining its bearings and is about to lash out at Tusktooth but Caleb takes a pinch of iron powder and reduces its size. No longer a smothering threat, he sighs, “There, that should make it easier to cut. You have one minute to take care of it.”

The four pounce at the rug without hesitation, leaving it in shreds before it slowly returns to its original size, now in pieces and unmoving.

“I'm sorry I hit you through the rug, Goblina,” Fancypants offers, her hands glowing with divine power as she heals Nott. “Let me make it better.”

“It's okay. Wow, I didn't know you could heal,” Nott tells her with a smile. “Can we touch the vault yet or is that trapped too?”

Caleb shakes his head. “If it's trapped, it is not through any magical means.”

“My turn then.” Casting Mage Hand, they watch Nott deftly maneuver her lock pick into place and proceed to unlock it.

The door swings open and an arrow flies out into thin air only to be caught by Tracy, who looks over to her teammates and says with a grin in her voice, “Did you guys see that? I'm keeping this.”

The five of them step closer and peer into the vault to find a small chest. “Goblina, is it trapped?” he makes a point of asking after seeing her fingers twitching with anticipation.

Nott gives a start and quickly motions for everyone to take a step back before bringing the hand over to open the chest.

A puff of gas is released and not quite far enough, they cough and sputter at the noxious smell. He can feel a tingling sensation in his fingers but nothing debilitating. “That was a good call, Ca—Dirty Drifter. You're so smart,” the goblin praises him.

Caleb spares her a smile. “Is the item inside?”

Fancypants nods and withdraws a magical seal along with several letters. “Yes! Good job! Go us! We are...the Dirty Ball-Eaters!”

He opens his mouth for a moment before closing it again, deciding it best to not comment on the name.

“How should we do this?” Nott asks quietly.

“Well, we have a haversack and a lead box we can put the things into to keep people from tracking it,” Tusktooth tells them. “We all pitched in for this so I reckon it only makes sense to split the reward.”

“Do we split it per team or per person?” Tracy asks.

Caleb shakes his head. “Per person is fine by me. I would not have been able to get Goblina out on my own. You have done us a favour.”

“You might not have triggered the rug on your own,” Fancypants tells him kindly. “Oh, maybe the next time we run into you, we can give you something nice! Like pastries!”

“Nein, you don’t have to—”

She cuts him off. “We fought a rug together so we're practically partners now, yes?”

Sensing his hesitation, Tusktooth steps forward. “Hey, Lady Fancypants, why don't we get out of here first? We can discuss the finer details of the handover after.”

“We should probably take the rug with us as well and dispose of it,” Nott points out. “Can anyone carry it out?”

Fancypants smiles widely at them, warm even through the disguise. “Leave it to me, guys. I have the coolest haversack in the world. Can you see it? Dammit, you can't see it. Take my word on it—it's the _coolest_.”

“And we know where you can dispose of it,” Caleb offers, still considering the earlier offer.

Tusktooth nods. “Sounds like a plan. Let's go—Fancypants, what are you doing?”

Placing a small penis statue in the chest, the old woman closes it and grins. “Just leaving them a gift from the Traveler, Oskar!”

Quickly rolling up the rug pieces and putting as many things as they can back into place, they crawl back into the attic and onto the roof. They replace the shingles then one by one, shimmy back over to the tree and start climbing down. The last to cross, Tracy picks up the grappling hook and does a running leap back over, landing, barely rustling the leaves on the tree.

“You are the coolest, Tracy,” Fancypants coos.

There's a smile in her voice as the monk replies, “Thanks, Lady Fancypants.”

“So where's this disposal place? We should probably change up our disguises,” Tusktooth points out.

Caleb nods. “Ja, that would be a good idea.”

He changes his form into a middle aged man with a shaggy beard while Nott changes into a gnome. Fancypants drops her old woman facade for an elf while Tusktooth disguises himself as a weathered half-elf.

Tracy crosses her arms. “Why can everyone do that except me?”

“We'll find a way to disguise you next time,” Fancypants tells her.

“Why don't you head back first, Tracy? The four of us can take care of the rest,” Tusktooth tells her.

She glances over at them and nods. “Fine. Keep an eye on them though, okay? They’re a shifty bunch.”

While Caleb can appreciate her candor and the truth in her statement, Fancypants merely smiles. “I think they're very sweet—even if they're a little stinky.”

“We'll just grapple them if they try anything,” Tusktooth jokes.

Nott narrows her eyes. “I'd like to see you try with those noodly arms.”

“You can't even see my arms.”

“But I bet they're noodly!”

He's about to call Nott off when Fancypants starts laughing. “See? Very sweet! I'll send you a message if we need help!”

With a huff, the monk slinks into the shadows and disappears.

Caleb uncomfortably clears his throat and draws their attention. “We should get going, ja?”

He leads them through the backstreets and into the sewers and hears Tusktooth mutter, “Seems like everyone who needs to do anything in the Tri-Spires knows this path.”

Ignoring it, he follows his mind's map up to a quiet residential area where one of their contacts lives. They poke their heads out and scan the area for guards before climbing out into the alleyway. Fancypants perks up. “Oh! Why didn't _I_ think of Deucy?”

Immediately exchanging glances with Nott, they turn back to the Ball-Eaters. “You know Herr Clay?”

“Yes! We have tea sometimes! Isn't he great? I just _love_ his hair!” Fancypants gushes. “We can bring him the rug. Why don't you two go home and rest?”

“Jes—” Tusktooth clears his throat with a quiet cough. “Lady Fancypants, they probably don't feel safe just letting us walk off with the thing.”

Caleb rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I am sure you are good people despite your—I guess, _our_ current profession, but we do not know you.”

Next to him, Nott remains silent.

Tusktooth nods. “I can't fault you for that. We don't really have any guarantees we can give you other than we've seen what you two can do, and trust me when I say I don't want to get caught in _any_ of that.”

“Ja, and I understand the need to keep it in the lead box to protect from scrying. That was a very good precaution to take,” he replies.

Fancypants smiles, preening at the compliment. “We _are_ super smart. Oh— _oh_! Oskar! What if we give them one of the letters we to from the vault? That way they can prove they helped!”

The three of them turn to her. “That's a good idea. Would that work for you two? We'll swing by with the item in the morning and tell them that the second half is on its way and that you two will be by to collect the rest of the reward.”

Although hesitant, he glances down at Nott, who gives him an encouraging nod. “I suppose I am amenable to that. Ja, alright. We...we will choose trust.” He holds out a hand. “For the moment at the very least, Captain Tusktooth.”

Shaking his hand, Tusktooth smiles. “We appreciate it. I have every intention to keep our word.”

Haversack off again, Fancypants crouches down and digs through her bag before emerging with a crisp envelop, the High Richter's seal still stamped on with wax. “Here you go!” she says, handing it over to Nott.

Taking it, Nott quickly tucks the letter into her cloak. “Thank you, Lady Fancypants.”

Another warm smile. “It's no problem at all, Goblina. We’re partners now, remember?”

“That's that then. Hope to see you two around some more. We work well together, as today proved.” Gently, Tusktooth places a hand on his friend's back and guides her away. “C'mon, it's getting late.”

“Let's work together again, partners!” Fancypants calls back in a loud whisper. “Remember, together, we're the Dirty Ball-Eaters!”

Left alone, Nott reaches up and clutches at his coat, her other hand still tucked away in her cloak. “That...is a terrible name.”

The smile in her voice has him trying to stifle his own. “Ja. Truly horrible. Come, we should go back and rest. It's been a long night.”

\--

“Hey, Caleb,” Nott whispers when they step back into their apartment and drop their disguises.

Caleb glances down, trying to find her figure in the shadows. “What is it?”

“I got one of the books from Lord Sutan's office,” she tells him, pulling a thick tome from her cloak. She grins at him as she hands it over, eyes gleaming in their faint moonlight peeking through their gap in the curtains.

Overcome with fondness, he picks her up and gives her a hug. Ignoring her squirming, he gives her a kiss on the head. “Thank you, Nott the Brave. What would I do without you?”

\--

Caleb wakes up earlier than usual the next day. Running a hand through his hair and putting on his coat, he leaves a quick message for Nott, who is curled up with Frumpkin and snoring lightly under the covers, and steps outside.

It's late morning and the streets are bustling with activity. Carts being towed in every which direction and people calling out, trying to sell their wares. The air is thick with static and the skies heavily overcast. He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks on without glancing about.

Suddenly feeling something there, Caleb blinks and pulls the item out from his pocket.

A small penis statue.

Not unlike the one Lady Fancypants had left in Lord Sutan’s chest.

Stifling a chuckle, he shakes his head and shoves his hands back into his pockets. He’ll have to show Nott this later, he thinks as he hurries along.

\--

Returning to the residential area they were in last night, he walks up to an inconspicuous house, cloistered away and surrounded by high brick walls. The gate is overgrown with vines but unlocked as usual so he steps inside.

Past the gates, a beautiful garden comes into view, flowers and fungi springing to life on every surface. He follows the narrow pathway up to the door and around to the back.

Caleb can hear soft chattering as he rounds the corner and freezes. There, carefully picking the fungi off one of the trees is Caduceus Clay, tall and lanky, and exuding calm and acceptance as always.

And sitting on the steps to the backdoor with a teacup in one hand and saucer in the other, is Mollymauk. “Mister Clay, I think you may be onto something. This blend may be your best one yet.” Noticing his presence, the tiefling’s tilts his head and his tail curls behind him languidly. “And it looks like you have company.”

The firbolg turns around and smiles. “Mister Caleb, it’s nice to see you. Would you like some tea? I have some prepared.”

He blinks, eyes wide at being caught off guard. Molly raises his cup and says, “You should try it. It's really quite lovely, _Mister Caleb_.”

His eyes take a moment to scan the tiefling. From the colourful coat to the low cut of his shirt, exposing scars and tattoos alike, the piercings decorating his ears and horns, and right down to the way his tail is idly swaying to and fro, everything about Mollymauk is made to draw attention. And judging by the twinkle in those bright crimson eyes, that was exactly his intention.

Swallowing hard, he tears his gaze away and manages to nod. “Ja, tea sounds good. Danke.”

“Excellent, let me go do that for you.” Dusting himself off, Caduceus walks back over towards the house. “And you, Mister Mollymauk?”

“No, thank you, dear. I should probably get going. Work and all that, you know?” Molly says, getting up and handing his teacup over. With a surprisingly quiet smile, he picks up several small packets and tucks them carefully into the pocket of his coat. “I think Yasha's going to really like this one.” Looking up at the ominous grey clouds above, he adds, “I'll try to get it to her before the storm sets in.”

Caduceus smiles and nods. “That’s great. Please send her my regards. I know how tricky these things can be. And ask Toya if she needs hers sweetened a little more.”

The tiefling’s grin widens into something Caleb is more familiar with. “I will. And we both get to try something new as well. Let's compare notes next time.”

“Of course. You're welcome here any time,” the cleric replies kindly.

“And you're welcome at the tavern any time, Mister Clay. Thanks for the tea.” With a wave, Molly saunters off, stopping in front of Caleb with an easy smile on his lips. “Come up to the bar and say hi next time.”

Without thinking, he mutters back, “Perhaps if I find something worth getting up for, Mister Mollymauk.”

Crimson eyes widen with delight. “Oh, I’m sure I can find a way to make it worth the trek.” With a laugh and the light brush of his tail, Molly leans in and whispers as he passes by, “Hope to see you around, _Mister Caleb_.”

Hearing his name roll off Mollymauk's tongue sends a shiver down his spine. Doing his best to ignore the blush creeping up his face, Caleb turns his gaze downward to his feet and waits for the tiefling to leave. Tail swaying to the beat of his steps, Molly leisurely walks off while humming the same song he'd attempted to sing two nights before; a faint, enticing waft of perfume and incense trailing behind him.

“It’s not like he's that charismatic up close anyway,” he mutters dryly to himself, remembering Nott's words. Slapping himself lightly on the cheeks, he makes his way to the back to find Caduceus.

The firbolg returns with a cup of tea for him. “There you go. So, what can I do for you, Mister Caleb?”

“Danke.” Caleb blows lightly at the tea and takes a sip, eyebrows raising. “This is very good tea.” Looking up, he asks, “You had visitors last night, ja? I, ah, do not know them very well so I just wanted to make sure everything went alright.”

Caduceus nods. “That's very kind of you. It went perfectly well. In fact, I just finished with it this morning.” Pointing to the far side of the garden, he says, “I'm curious to see what will grow from it. It's very exciting.”

“That's good. They sounded like they have known you awhile,” he says, taking another sip. “You are very well-acquainted, Herr Clay.”

An enigmatic smile. “Well, I believe in destiny. And I think those who need to find me will find a way to find me.”

Remembering how he and Nott scrambled into this very garden to hide after a particularly messy job, Caleb shrugs. “I can't argue with that.”

He takes another sip and Caduceus returns to his earlier task. The firbolg makes no attempt to hide his affiliation with an unsanctioned god. The whole garden is a temple to the Wild Mother and it's a wonder none of the Crownsguard have caught on yet.

As if sensing his thoughts, the cleric smiles at him. “It's not my time to move on yet. I'm still needed in Zadash.”

Caleb blinks. “Of course.” Feeling self-conscious and not wanting to be under the scrutiny of such a perceptive man any longer, he finishes his tea and sets it gently down on a nearby table. “Thank you for the tea, Herr Clay, but I believe Nott will be up soon and I was hoping to bring breakfast back for her.”

Caduceus dips his head. “That's nice. Please send my regards.”

“Ja, of course. I hope she won't be too upset that I came for a visit without her.”

There's a soft chuckle. “Tell her I'll have some of her favourite tea leaves set aside in case she decides to visit.” Glancing up, he smiles. “I think good things are coming, Mister Caleb. These are exciting times ahead.”

Unsure what to make of those prophetic words, he nods. “I hope you are right, Herr Clay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caleb: Bitch, don't do it.  
> Also Caleb: Mister Mollymauk.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the by I updated my username just fyi

The storm clouds are gathering ever faster by the time he returns to the apartment, his hands pressed up against the cooling load of bread.

Nott is already sitting at the table and waiting when he returns. “Guten Morgen,” he says in greeting.

She smiles back at him, unfazed by the sight of him warming his hands on the bread. “Hello, Caleb. How was Mister Clay?”

“Good. Last night went well it seems. He sent his regards and said he would set aside your favourite tea leaves for your next visit,” he reports back dutifully. If he happens to leave out the bit with Mollymauk being there—well, she didn't ask.

“Oh good! I have some tea made but it's never as good as his,” Nott says, gesturing at the cup in her hands. “Would you like a cup?”

He shakes his head and sets the bread down on the table. “Nein, danke. I had a cup with Herr Clay. I got us breakfast, and,” reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a small handful of buttons he'd bought from a tailor on his way back, “here. For you.”

Nott immediately makes a grab for the buttons, nearly knocking her cup over. “Buttons! And they're so shiny!” A smile splitting her face, she looks up. “Thank you, Caleb! What's the occasion?”

“Nothing,” Caleb replies with a shrug. “I passed by a tailor and thought of you. As you know, you are very important to me and I wanted to do something nice for you, Nott the Brave.”

Her lips quiver a little. “Thank you, Caleb. I'm going to put these in my _special_ collection.”

“Think nothing of it.” Caleb spares her a smile as he watches her put the buttons away with care after inspecting each one.

Attention turning back to him, the goblin asks, “So do we have plans for today?”

Nodding, he sets about looking for spread for the bread. “I was thinking we would have breakfast and then go by the Evening Nip with the letter. Hopefully the Ball-Eaters kept their end of the bargain.”

Nott takes a slice of bread and scarfs it down plain, spewing out crumbs as she says, “Sounds like a plan.”

With a perfectly straight face, Caleb nods and rummages through his pockets. “That reminds me. Our friend Lady Fancypants left us a gift.” He pulls out the small penis statue. “Why don't you have it? It is not magical. I checked.”

Blinking at it, she picks it up and shrugs. “It’s not very well-balanced either. Maybe we can use it as a paperweight.”

\--

Their walk to the Evening Nip is uneventful. Passing the armed guard at the door, they enter and make their way to the bartender, who doesn't even bother waiting for the phrase and nods for them to proceed to a back room.

“Mother and Child,” a voice greets them, “I was told to expect you.”

A lantern on the ground flares to life, revealing walls lined with wooden lockers. Stepping forward, the elf holds out a hand expectantly. They've interacted enough times in the past that the confusion surrounding their team name has long since worn away.

“Here you go,” Nott says in return, handing over the letter Fancypants had given them.

The elf examines the envelope and letter closely before nodding. She unhooks a set of unmarked keys from her belt and flips through them until she finds what she's looking for. Unlocking one of the lockers, she pulls out a jingling pouch and places the letter inside. “The Gentleman will be pleased with your gifts. Your 260 gold pieces for the retrieval of the seal and three letters.”

Caleb has to stifle the urge to glance over at Nott. He'd only seen two letters in that vault and he very much doubts the Gentleman is capable of something as mundane as accounting errors. Taking the bag of coin, he nods. “Danke. We will take our leave then.”

They step out into a small antechamber and quickly count the gold pieces before taking their leave from the near-empty tavern.

“What do you think happened?” Nott asks as they make their way back towards the Pentamarket. “Maybe two of the letters were stuck together? Surely they wouldn't be dumb enough to give the Gentleman a forged letter.”

He shakes his head. “I don't know. It's probably better not to ask at this point or they will think we had a part in it. Let’s just concentrate on our next job.”

\--

Getting into the mansion and sneaking through the halls had been easy. He'd memorized the layout of the building and led Nott through the maze of rooms without any incidents. Outside, the wind howls and rain pounds against the windows. The storms have been passing through unpredictably for the last two weeks and they were lucky to have made it inside before this particular storm began. The risk of leaving behind wet footprints in the mansion almost outweighed the job’s reward.

They get to their target's office and poke their heads through the side door to find the man sitting and reading not twenty feet ahead.

He looks down at nods.

Nott steps inside and, hugging the wall, makes her way towards the back of the room to get better aim of the target. Meanwhile, he readies a Fire Bolt just in case and steps inside, crouching by the wall and waiting.

Suddenly, the doors to the main entryway fly open and two cloaked figures step in, the matching grins on their masks gleaming in the dim light.

Everyone in the room freezes.

It's unfortunate that the target's the first to come back to his senses. Leaping to his feet, the elf drops his book and shouts, “Intruders! Guards! Help!”

Caleb misses when their jobs used to go smoothly.

Without missing a beat, Nonagon leaps into action. A scimitar in each hand, they launch themselves at the target. Behind them, the Charm follows, great sword out and ready to fend off any attacks.

Nott's bolt finds the elf first.

The man clutches at his neck, choking as he tries to draw in a breath. In quick succession, another bolt flies true and ends his misery.

Nonagon skids to a halt in front of the body just as it slumps over, blood already pooling on the marble floor.

Not wanting to give the pair a chance to take their kill, he stands up and runs in, releasing the Fire Bolt at them while Nott skitters to the far back of the room where the desk is and hides.

Without any hesitation, Nonagon pulls the corpse up to shield themselves from the blast. Once safe, they quickly put out the dead man's clothes and continue rifling through the pockets while the Charm goes to stand between their partner and Caleb as if daring him to attack again.

There’s a noise of triumph and Nonagon suddenly pulls a pendant off the corpse's belt.

Caleb tenses, debating whether he should give up or risk another attack.

Before he can decide, Nonagon tosses the pendant over to Nott.

With a yelp, she fumbles with it for a second before eventually catching it. She immediately takes a bite into it to test the material, her disguise teeth not quite touching the gem hanging off the chain. Seemingly satisfied with what she finds, Nott tucks it away in her cloak, her eyes still narrowed in suspicion.

The two of them exchange looks but don't have time to ponder their competitor's move when down the hall, several sets of heavy footsteps approach.

All four of them look up in alarm as nearly a dozen hired guards flow into the room from both entryways.

Nothing in their reconnaissance earlier that week prepared them for these numbers.

The Charm immediately rushes forward, the sheer force of their attack sending one of the guards flying into their comrades. Behind them, there's a soft crackle and suddenly, there's a thin sheen of icy magic coating one of Nonagon's ornate blades.

Backing up and ducking behind the desk where Nott is currently reloading her crossbow, Caleb pokes his head out and sends three Magic Missiles flying at two of the guards to the side of the Charm.

There's a cry and a magic user at the other end of the room starts clawing at her eyes. Next to him, Nott lets loose two bolts and easily takes her out.

The remaining guards quickly move to flank the two in front, forcing them to stand back to back, though that doesn't seem to slow the masked duo down any.

Moving in tandem, Nonagon leaps up as the Charm does makes a wide swing with their sword, turning in midair and throwing their non-magic scimitar at an attacking guard. Landing gracefully, they pull the blade out and parry another blow.

Suddenly struck by inspiration, Caleb takes a pinch of iron powder and enlarges the Charm.

There's a delighted laugh and he's pretty sure it's coming behind Nonagon's grinning mask.

Nott fires another bolt but it goes wide and the Charm takes another swipe—this time knocking down three guards in one go. One of the guards manage to get a hit on them, but the Charm barely acknowledges the pain, unrelenting in their attack.

Their fight takes a turn for the worse when three of the guards break away from the group and make a run for the desk. Nonagon sprints after them, allowing one guard to get a swipe in as they pass by.

Hastily murmuring an incantation, an arrow of acid goes flying at one of the guards, splashing across her armour. The acid sizzles and eats away at the metal, and in trying to wipe the substance off, the woman's gauntlets begin eroding too. Coming up from behind, Nonagon's icy blade silences her as they turn to face the remaining two.

By the entrance, the Charm finishes off another bloodied guard, continuing their steady onslaught.

A bolt goes flying into the arm of one of the guards, but the dwarf barely gives a grunt and goes to swing his axe. Between the two guards, they both manage to land hits on Nonagon before they're able to cut down the dwarf and pivots with an upward cut.

The last guard parries and the icy scimitar goes flying.

It lands with a quiet thud on the ground and its magic sheen fades.

Caleb quickly sends a Fire Bolt at the guard but it merely gleams his armour and disappears.

Only armed with one of their swords now, Nonagon leans back to duck the first swipe and then again. With ease and grace, they avoid the blows, occasionally parrying with their sword.

The guard grunts and surges forward with a thrust.

In a single fluid motion, Nonagon does a double flip back and hisses something at the man, dazing him. Pulling their hood back down from where it'd slowly been creeping up, Nonagon runs back to the man jams their remaining blade between two plates of armour and finishes the guard off.

Still continuously firing, Nott manages to pick off another guard while, back to their normal size, the Charm cleaves one of the remaining two in half.

Before the last guard can run, Caleb sends another round of Magic Missiles at them and they crumple to the ground before the Charm can turn around.

It's silent in the aftermath of the battle, with Nonagon and the Charm standing amidst the bodies of fallen guards, still masked and their cloaks tattered and soiled. From behind the desk, he and Nott rise to their feet, standing close to each other and waiting to see what the other pair will do next.

Stepping over the body of their last kill and picking up their other sword off the ground, Nonagon bends down and wipes their blades clean on one of the corpses. Sheathing their weapons, they walk over and pat their larger partner on the arm. The two of them seem to look over themselves, occasionally holding up their cloaks to inspect the damage done to the blood-spattered colourful cloth, neither of them paying Caleb or Nott any mind. If they speak, it's too quiet for him to hear.

Nott clears her throat, putting on her best, very exaggerated Zemnian accent. “ _Danke_ for your help. You are both very... _stark und schnell_.”

They still have some work to do although her vocabulary is really coming along, Caleb thinks idly to himself.

The pair glance at one another and shrug in response. Nonagon leans casually against the Charm and tilts their head as if asking what they want.

Looking down at his partner in crime, he's also curious to see what she's trying to say.

“You two did most of the work taking out the guards, _ja_?” Nott continues, pursing her halfling disguise's lips. “I think it's only fair that we split the reward money.”

Nonagon perks up as though surprised. They look up at the Charm then back at them. “No need,” they say, their voice muffled and distorted behind the mask.

Caleb blinks, having only spoken to the pair once before to learn their aliases. From the light of the fireplace, he can see injuries through the folds of their cloaks, sluggishly bleeding out. Neither of the pair seem too bothered by them, though it's hard to tell with their masks on and their limited interactions.

Nott frowns. “Are you sure? You two were hurt—even though you're the ones who burst in and alerted the target in the first place,” remembering her accent, she quickly adds, “ _ja_? We're willing to share.”

That earns her a chuckle and a dismissive gesture. “It's fine. The kill shot was yours.”

“We'll split it anyway!” Nott tells them. “We’ll leave it under your name at the usual place!”

There’s a pause as the two look at each other again and the Charm seems to shake their head a little. Nonagon nods and pats their arm again reassuringly before turning back to them with a simple “Nah, we’re good, thanks.” Then, with a familiar finger wave from Nonagon, the two of them walk out the way they came and disappear through the doors without looking back.

“...what the fuck was that about?” Nott hisses to him once they're left alone. “Who turns down money like that?”

Caleb shakes his head and shrugs. “Maybe they are not doing this for the money?”

That only seems to frustrate her further. “What other reason is there for killing these people? I mean, if they want to kill, they can just go out and take out random people!”

Quickly placing a hand on her shoulder, he shushes her. “That is not what I meant. They must have their reason for not taking the money. Maybe they’re playing fair, or maybe they do not trust us to not stake out the tavern or something. It does not look like they have magic to disguise themselves like you or I, Goblina.”

Nott’s shoulders sag and she nods. “You’re probably right, Dirty Drifter. They’re probably just scared of how good we are.” She gives him a small smile. “You’re so smart.” Then glancing at the door, she admits, “We were lucky they showed up though. That was a lot of guards and you’re good, but you’re awfully squishy.”

He returns the smile and steps away from the desk. “That’s true. We can discuss this further later if you'd like.” Casting Detect Magic, he scans the room and immediately picks out the book their target had been reading. This was the reason they took the job in the first place. The reward may be not be the most lucrative they’ve had, but the opportunity to scour the library of a reclusive but corrupt scholar wasn’t something he could pass up. Walking over, he picks it up and tucks it away inside his coat and turns back to his partner. “For now, let’s go to the library and see what other treasures this man has been hoarding.”

They leave through a window and into the rain that night with their pockets stuffed full of books—two magical, one on magical history, and the rest simply interesting novels the dead man had collected over the years.

\--

Pouring over the books the next day, Caleb’s a little glad Nonagon had turned down Nott’s offer split their earnings. As it is, his share of the reward money won’t even be enough to cover the amount of ink and paper he’ll need to transcribe these new spells.

Even so, despite what he told Nott the night before, he has no idea why Nonagon and the Charm operate the way they do. He thought he knew, but given this recent turn of events, he’s been forced to revaluate. And Caleb Widogast _hates_ not understanding.

He replays the events in his mind over and over again, hoping to find a clue or spot something he’d missed amidst the chaos, but he comes up empty-handed. The only conclusions he manages to draw is that either Nonagon or their sword is magical, the pair seem to know each other well enough to communicate without words, and the proof of kill they’d given to Nott might be fake.

\--

“Well done, Mother and Child. Here is the reward as stated: 400 gold pieces.”

So much for that idea then.

They quickly count out their money in the alcove and take their leave back into the rain.

Caleb’s reassessing all the steps of logic he’d taken to reach that particular conclusion when Nott tugs at his coat. “Caleb?”

He blinks and looks down. “What is it?”

She has a concerned frown on her lips as she asks, “Are you alright? You seem to be worried about something. Has it got to do with last night? Did we do something wrong?”

Just like that, his mind pushes the question of Nonagon aside to be pondered at a later time in favour of this new source of wonder: that he actually has someone in his life who knows him well enough to read him and cares enough to ask.

Heart warmed at the thought, Caleb quickly nods and picks her up despite her sopping wet cloak. “Nein, we did great, Nott. You have nothing to worry about. So, what should we do first? We can pay Pumat Sol a visit to see how much ink and paper he has left, or we can find somewhere nice to eat and wait out the rain.”

\--

Their next few weeks pass by uneventfully until the newest round of targets is delivered. Caleb's eyes linger on one job that's been there since they first began their subscription but he shakes his head, dispersing the dark thoughts clouding his mind. Instead, he hones in on a job connected to their previous one at Lord Sutan’s.

Without any galas or events to lure their target away in the near future, they take their time to scope out the building and its surroundings. In their research, they uncover the corruption and scandals the High Richter has been accused of, and the number of grudges she’s garnered over the years seems to have shaped her into a very paranoid woman. While understandable, that also meant _traps_ and lots of them.

Eager to finish gathering their supplies for the job, the two of them pay the Invulnerable Vagrant a visit for supplies. Walking in mid-conversation, he asks Nott, “How many books do you think a bag of holding could fit?”

“A lot,” she replies. “And you wouldn't have to worry about the weight! Or the rain! Maybe we should get one!”

“Ja, we should inquire about those though I do need more ink and paper,” Caleb mutters back quietly. “Hopefully we have the funds for all this but I am doubtful.”

“Why hello there. It's a pleasure to see you again,” one of the Pumats greets them, a pleasant smile on his lips as always. “What can I do you for today? Are you back for more ink and paper?”

He nods. “I will take 200 gold of that and I would like to see a bag of holding if you still have one.”

Pumat nods and smiles back. “Of course! Anything for a regularly returning customer such as yourself. Let me go get you that paper first. Boy, you sure are lucky. We finally got around to restocking since you cleared us out last time.”

Caleb shrugs ruefully. “Ja, well, I happen to have a very expensive hobby. You know how it is.” Or, he sure hopes the firbolg does, because he’s not ready to elaborate any further.

“Oh, I sure do,” Pumat tells him easily. “I’ll be right back with your paper.”

After the firbolg leaves, he finally notices the stares on them. Turning, he finds three customers openly eyeing them. Suddenly nervous, he scans their faces and recognizes them as the three rowdy patrons who were sitting at the very front for the show at Fletching and Moondrop's.

Frowning, Caleb asks, “Hallo? Can I help you with something?”

The blue tiefling grins, wide and toothy, taking two steps closer to get right up in their faces. “Maybe,” she says, drawing out each syllable. “If you two are who I think you are—and I'm _pretty sure_ you're who I think you are, _partner_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caleb and Nott need better perception checks.
> 
> Team names so far:  
> Mother and Child: Goblina and Dirty Drifter/Philip  
> The Ball-Eaters: Lady Fancypants, Captain Tusktooth/Oskar, and Tracy  
> (Mother and Child+The Ball-Eaters=The Dirty Ball-Eaters)  
> Nonagon and the Charm


	4. Chapter 4

At the sound of the tiefling's voice and speech pattern, Caleb feels his jaw drop a little as his mind panics and reels. Next to him, Nott grabs his coat and half hides behind him, withdrawing further into her hood.

Seeing their reaction, Fancypants immediately raises her hands and tries to reassure them, “Don't worry! We're just here to do some shopping too!”

“ _Too much_ shopping, more like,” Tusktooth mutters.

All too aware of their location, he says quietly, “Maybe we should speak elsewhere.”

Fancypants nods. “That’s a good idea. Just hang on, one of the Pumats is just getting something for us.” She smiles. “So you're getting a haversack too? Is it because you saw mine and thought, _'Wow, that sure is cool and now I want one!_ ’?”

Wide-eyed and overwhelmed, Caleb nods meekly. “Ja, that is exactly it.”

“Jes, maybe give them some space,” Tusktooth says, pulling her back gently. “I imagine this is a lot to take in.”

“Yeah, they look like they're about to dart,” Tracy says, her voice no longer muffled by that unwieldy war mask. “I mean, I can't blame them.”

The tiefling frowns and walks over to Nott and crouches down. “Please don't be scared. We're really just here to shop. And we _like_ you! We wouldn’t do anything bad.”

Nott blinks owlishly at her and takes a step forward, her mask carefully hiding her mouth. “Is this a good idea? Talking to us like this?”

“I don't see why not,” Fancypants tells her earnestly. There’s a warmth to her that none of her disguises have ever been able to hide. “We're friends! It's perfectly normal for friends to talk during the day! We can talk and shop and have lunch and buy pastries together!”

Still clutching onto his pants, Nott smiles tentatively and looks up at him. “I suppose that's true, isn't it?”

It breaks his heart a little to see how hopeful she is. Swallowing hard, Caleb nods. “Listen, why don't you and…”

“Jester,” Fancypants introduces herself happily. “I'm Jester and that's Fjord and that's Beau!”

The monk gives him a nod. “What’s up? I'm Beauregard.”

Fjord holds out a hand. “Fjord. It's a pleasure to properly make your acquaintance.”

It's Caleb's turn to blink. He shakes the half-orc's hand and mumbles, “Caleb Widogast, and this is Nott the Brave.”

“Hello,” Nott waves at the three. “I'm just a little girl.”

Beauregard chuckles without any malice. “Most little girls wouldn't tack that last bit on, just saying.”

Bending down, Caleb nods at the goblin. “Why don't you and Jester go talk outside and I will join you once I am done? Just make sure you are careful, ja?”

Nott nods excitedly, pushing her mask firmly against her face. “Yes! I'll be very careful, Caleb!”

Jester immediately takes the goblin by the hand, seemingly unconcerned by the greenness of her skin or the half-bandaged claws. “We'll be super _extra_ careful, Cay-leb!”

Snapping Frumpkin into his arms, he wraps the cat around the goblin's neck, not minding Jester's squeal of delight. “Keep them out of trouble,” he tells the cat.

Frumpkin blinks slowly at him and stretches idly in response.

On their way out, he hears Nott ask, “So why are you here?”

“Oh! We had tea at Caduceus’ earlier and he asked us to look for a new kettle for him! Wasn't that lucky? We would've never met you otherwise! C'mon, let's go before Fjord's allergies kick up!”

They watch the pair run out of sight as the door closes behind them and Fjord turns to him, rubbing his nose with a finger. “You must be very proud.”

“What?” Caleb gives a start and turns to the half-orc then to the door, understanding dawning on him. “Ah, ja, very proud. I would be nothing without her.”

Beau leans over, eyebrow arched. “Wait, is she actually your kid then? I mean, you guys are called...you know, right? So are you like her mom or…? Like, that's fine and cool, but I'm just very curious how something like that would work. Adoption maybe?”

For a moment, he considers playing along but as she continues speaking, he quickly changes his mind and shakes his head and clarifies, “No, we are not related. I am just very proud of her in general.”

“Huh. Guess I wouldn't know what that's like,” Beau mutters nonchalantly.

Fjord looks over at her, crossing his arms. “What are you talking about? Me and Jester are plenty proud of you.”

She visibly softens, her shoulders sagging and the furrow between her brows fading. “Aw, thanks.” Then she bares her teeth in a way that reminds Caleb of Nott hissing and he furrows his brows in confusion.

“It's getting there. Definitely making progress away from undead gnoll to... _something_ ,” Fjord tells her with a reassuring pat on the arm.

“I'm smiling,” Beau explains, using her fingers to push the corners of her lips farther up. “Apparently smiling makes people think you're nice.”

Caleb nods slowly. “Well, you kind of remind me of Nott when she is eating, so in a way, that is a little nicer?”

Fjord's eyebrows shoot up and he wonders if he said the wrong thing, but after a moment of thought, Beauregard nods and gives him a hard pat on the arm that has him wincing. “I'll take that. You're alright, Widogast. For now. Still shifty as fuck though.”

He blinks at the mixed message. “Alright. I guess I will take that also. For now. Thank you, Beauregard.”

Just then, both Pumats return with their items and after an unsuccessful bargain, he leaves with his paper and ink and a healing potion instead of a haversack while the Ball-Eaters walk out with new bracers for Beau.

Nott and Jester are nowhere in sight and Caleb immediately freezes. Maybe it was a trap after all and they'd been too quick to trust. But, no, Fjord and Beau are hardly paying him any attention, happily admiring their latest acquisition.

A sinister little voice in his mind taunts him for falling into ruin before ever returning to Rexxentrum.

Forcing his hands to remain steady, he brings out his copper wire and tries sending a message out into the general direction of the market. “Nott the Brave, can you hear me? We are done here so please come back. You can reply to this message.”

Behind him, he hears Beau mutter, “ _Dude_ , we totally need something like that.”

“It’s Caleb! Caleb! We. Are. The. _Greatest detectives ever_!” he hears in his mind almost immediately after. “We're on our way back!”

Relief washes over him, and with his ears still ringing, Caleb tells the other two, “Uh, I believe they are on their way back.”

Within minutes, he watches the two barreling through the crowd with a kettle in hand. Nott skids to a stop in front of him, waving her hands excitedly, none worse for wear. “We did it, Caleb! We closed the case!”

Taking Frumpkin back into his arms for his own comfort, he hides his earlier near-panic attack by asking, “What did you two do?”

“We were _so_ good!” Jester exclaims.

“We were the _best_!” Nott agrees.

“The very best!”

With practiced ease, Fjord tells them, “Take a deep breath, you two, and tell us what happened.”

The two audibly inhale and Jester holds up the kettle. “This is the kettle Deucy wanted! We went to buy it but someone got there before us!”

Nott nods enthusiastically. “So we tracked them down!”

“And we took it back!”

“And Jester left them a gift!”

“It was a giant dick! We are the—oh, we can't say it. We need a civilian name.”

“...what about Filthy Orb-Gobblers?”

“I love it! We’re the Filthy Orb-Gobblers!”

“Filthy Orb-Gobblers!”

They turn to each other and starting screaming and laughing at one another.

“Holy shit, they're so weird and adorable,” Beau mutters under her breath.

Fjord glances over at him as if watching for his reaction, but having witnessed and assisted in so many of Nott's incurable itches, Caleb merely shrugs. “Nobody was hurt?”

Nott beams at him under her mask. “Nope! Didn't even notice it was gone!”

Jester puts the kettle away into her pink haversack and takes Nott by the hands and grins. “We were _so_ good, partner.”

“You said it, partner,” the goblin returns, yellow eyes narrowing with fondness.

Caleb smiles quietly to himself. Although unexpected in every way, he's glad to see Nott making friends with people who accept her so readily. He glances around at the Ball-Eaters, all watching the display with varying degrees of affection. He may not fully trust them yet, but at least explanations aren't necessary with friends like these.

“We should celebrate,” Jester declares. “Let's go have lunch!”

“Can we, Caleb?” Nott asks.

Not willing to be the one to put a premature end to her fun despite his misgivings, he nods. “I don't see why not. I assume you have somewhere in mind, Jester?”

The tiefling smiles. “Of course! We _always_ go to Molly's! We're really good friends, you know? And Big Bo and Ornna are _really_ good at cooking! One time, me and Little Beau snuck to the back and we were like, 'Hey, where's the stove?’ And Ornna was like, 'We don't need a stove with me around!’ And then her hands were all fire and she sizzled some bacon for us right there! It was _amazing_.”

“It's actually really good,” Beau agrees, pulling out old bacon from her pocket and picking off a piece of lint. “Pocket bacon?”

Exchanging glances with Nott, they both shrug and take a bite. “I believe we saw you the last time we were there,” Caleb tells them. “Did you win that arm wrestling match, Beauregard?”

The monk scowls. “That was a long time ago, dude. I lost, but it was totally Molly's fault for distracting me.”

“Oh, that reminds me: I wonder if Yasha's back yet,” Jester says. “Hang on, let me ask Molly!”

Caleb arches a brow as he watches Fjord hold up his hands as if ready to count.

Jester clears her throat. “Hey, Molly! Guess who? It's your favourite person in the world! Jester! We're coming for lunch so I hope you're not still sleeping! Oh, we're—”

Fjord shakes his head, making a cutting motion with his hand. “That's it.”

“Shit! Hang on, I'll cast it again!” the tiefling exclaims. “We're bringing friends with us so give us an extra big table with lots of pastries and bacon! And is Yasha back yet?” Glancing up, her eyes widen with panic. “ _Fuck_! Beauwantstoknowbye!” She shrugs impishly. “That probably counted as one word.”

Intrigued, Caleb immediately sets about deciphering the spell in his head. He's read about cleric sending spells but this is the first time he's seen it in action. The word limit seems restricting, but then, he imagines most people are far less liberal with their words.

There's a pause and Jester giggles. “I think we woke him up, but that's okay! He's expecting us now!” Linking arms with Nott, she struts forward. “Let's go, partner!”

\--

At Fletching and Moondrop's, they're greeted with a significantly smaller crowd than on the night of the show. Occupied mostly by regulars enjoying a simple meal and a drink, idle chatter and loud chewing fill the tavern.

Appearing at the stairway, Mollymauk steps forward, yawning and stretching, hair mussed and free of his usual rainbow coat. Jester skips forward with a grin. “Good morning, Molly! Late night?”

Molly chuckles. “Normal night, actually. Thanks for the wake-up call, I guess.”

“Hey obnoxious one, where do you want us?” Beau calls from the door.

“Preferably out the door, unpleasant one, but pull up a couple chairs and take that back table over there. I'll be with you in a sec—on my _day off_ , by the way,” Molly calls back, a hand running up his shirt to scratch sleepily as his tail curls lazily around his calf. Then he seems to remember: “You said something about friends?”

Jester nods and points at them. “Yes! That's Caleb and Nott over there! Go say hi!”

It's only when they make eye contact that Caleb manages to tear his gaze away and tries to look anywhere else. Molly immediately grins as he sidles over, combing through his hair with long, elegant fingers. “Why _, Mister Caleb_ , it's so nice to see you again—and with an adorable cat! Finally decided to make the arduous trek over?”

“Guten Morgen, Mister Mollymauk. It was not my first choice, but I was told there was good bacon,” he replies dryly, scratching Frumpkin beneath the chin.

Molly throws his head back and laughs, the jewels decorating his horns jingling pleasantly. “Oh, you wound me! Still not worth a hello then? I'll have to find some other thing to warrant your attention.”

Caleb can feel Nott's gaze on him and shrugs. “Good luck. I have a very limited number of interests.”

“I _do_ like a challenge,” the tiefling tells him before taking a step back. “I assume bacon is one of your elusive interests? Go take a seat, dear, and I'll see what's happening in the kitchen.”

“What was that about? You and Molly know each other?” Nott whispers to him as they make their way to the back table where they'd sat last time.

He shakes his head. “Not per se. We had a run-in a while back, but that is it.”

“What are you two talking about?” Jester asks from the table, tail waving around mischievously. “Are you talking about Molly's butt?”

Beau makes a face and concedes, “Not into it, but dude's got a nice butt.”

“And a really nice dick,” Jester adds. “Remember when we went to the bathhouse? Yours is nice too, Fjord, but Molly's is _nice_.”

Burying his face in his hands, Fjord heaves a sigh. “Thanks, Jes. Just what a guy wants to hear.”

Glad to no longer be under the spotlight, Caleb takes a seat and asks, “So how did you come to gain such esteemed statuses here?”

“Jester chased off an unruly customer for Molly a while back,” Beau explains. “It was pretty badass.”

Nott asks, “Molly can't fight?”

Beau shrugs. “Beats me. He's pretty shifty too, but I think he's all loud colours and no punch.”

Fjord shakes his head. “I feel like you're not giving Molly enough credit. I'm sure he could've handled one mouthy drunk.”

“But he didn't have to,” Jester points out, “because I did it for him!”

“And what a magnificent sight it was! Just a little hello from a gem and he was sent running,” Molly says, coming up to the table with a tray in his hands. He passes out a round of drinks and a cup of milk for Jester followed by a large plate of bacon and another of pastries. “Did any of you want actual food or is this good?”

“I'd like actual food, please,” Fjord says, raising his hand. “How about a round of lunch for the table?”

Nott glances over at him. “So, a Fjord Fiesta then.”

Molly lets out a cackle. “That's not bad. You're keeping good company, Fjord.”

Fjord glares at both of them. “Debatable.”

When they’re left alone again, Jester turns to him and asks quietly, “Hey, Caleb, would it be okay if we talked about a job?”

He blinks and looks around. “Right now?”

“No, silly. Maybe later,” she says. “There's a pretty big one and I think it'd be good to work together. We were actually wondering how to get in touch with you so this worked out perfectly.”

Caleb thinks back, filtering through all the different postings in this week's batch. He narrows the possible jobs down to two. “I think I have a good idea which one you are referring to. We may have our eyes on the same prize.”

The Ball-Eaters turn and stare at him skeptically. Nott immediately jumps to his defense. “Caleb's very smart!”

Jester nods encouragingly at her. “I can see that, Nott. You must be very proud.”

The goblin turns to smile at him—so wide her mask can barely contain it. “Of course! He's the smartest person I know!”

He clears his throat. “Thank you, Nott. I would be open to discussing the case, Jester—preferably somewhere more private. So, ja, we can talk more later if you'd like.”

The tiefling beams. “Great! I'll message you! This will be so fun! We work _so_ well together, guys!”

Fjord leans in and whispers, “Not for nothing, Jes, but you have what? One more go at it? Why don't we pass along the essentials to these guys first and then you can call them when it's time?”

Pouting, Jester huffs, “I'm not that bad, Fjord! But it would be a good back-up plan, I guess.”

Bo and Molly bring out their lunches and return to the bar where Molly helps himself to a tankard. Caleb feels his face heat up when Molly catches his gaze again and gives him a crooked smile, one of his fangs just visible.

Quickly turning back, he focuses on Beau's story about how she used a bag of ball bearings against a group of gnolls only to fall down a shaft—interrupted only by Jester's need to joke about how long the shaft was.

They're half way through their meal when they're interrupted by shouting at the bar. Molly is ushering the halfling twins into the back as a large, burly humanoid man backed by a human and a dwarf continues yelling obscenities.

Everyone in the tavern freezes for a moment, silent and holding their breaths, waiting to see how the scene will play out.

Molly watches the three with an unimpressed expression, his swaying tail comes to a stop, hanging low and tense. A smile comes to his lips. “ _Gentlemen_ , I would strongly advise against starting trouble here.”

There's a dangerous glint in those crimson eyes and at once, the hair on the back of Caleb's neck stands on end.

“The only one starting trouble here is you!” the humanoid shouts back, none the wiser.

The tiefling arches a brow, stepping out from behind the bar with his arms crossed. “Please elaborate.”

“His girl ran off with you!” the dwarf calls out.

Shoulders relaxing, Molly heaves a sigh, and the feeling that had put Caleb’s senses on high alert fades as quickly as it came.

“Ran off with me, you say? What a scoundrel I am! We could be anywhere by now! You should go find us and get her back and show me who's boss—oh, but wait.” Molly gestures at the tavern and then to himself with mock-surprise. “I’m standing right here. It doesn’t seem like ‘your girl’ wanted to be with either of us.”

The man scowls. “Are you giving me lip?”

Molly laughs. “No, I wouldn't even give you that much, darling.”

“I'll show you!” the humanoid shouts, swinging his fist.

Beau and Jester leap out of their seats to their friend's aid while Molly ducks out of the way of a punch.

Nott turns to Fjord and asks, “Aren't you going to help them?”

He shrugs. “They've got this.”

“Isn't Jester a healer?” Caleb asks.

Unmoved, Fjord nods and continues picking at his lunch. “Yeah. I'm just hoping we won't have to pay for any property damage if she decides to throw one of them through a wall.”

Exchanging looks with Nott, he sits back and watches on, though not before subtly casting haste on Beauregard, who looks down at her fists and back up at him. “Oh, _shit_! I feel amazing! Thanks, dude.”

She'll feel significantly less amazing in a minute, but hopefully the fight will be over by then. And judging by the way she's pummeling the human, a minute may be all she needs to take all three out on her own.

Facing down the dwarf, Jester goes at him with her bare fists and blocking with the small shield strapped to her side.

Then she disappears.

And reappears behind him only to bob him on the head.

And then she disappears again.

Meanwhile, Molly is leisurely ducking and dodging out of the way of attack after attack. “You and your friends should probably stop. Gustav will be very upset with both of us if this goes on.”

Pulling out a sword, the humanoid bellows, “Face me seriously, you devil!”

“I’d rather not. That won't go well for either of us,” Molly replies easily. Side-stepping a swipe with ease—so much so that Caleb half expected him to flip out of the way.

The thought immediately nags at him, bringing memories of Nonagon to his mind. Certainly, the two were about the same height, though it's hard to judge Nonagon's build under that colourful cloak or Mollymauk's swordsmanship while unarmed.

But then Molly backs onto an occupied table and immediately turns around and fumbles to keep it upright, apologizing to the patrons and promising a free round of drinks on him later.

As he's distracted and turned away, the humanoid grabs the tiefling by the back of his shirt and yanks him backwards, his sword at the ready.

Fjord leans forward in his seat a little, the faint glow of a spell ready in his hand.

It proves unnecessary.

With an impressive leap, Molly flies behind the man, twisting his arm back until he's forced to release his grip. Then landing on his feet, in one smooth movement, he leans forward and kicks back before dusting himself off and fixing his clothes.

The humanoid stumbles back to where the other his companions are, the human now beaten to a pulp and the dwarf swatting at tiny unicorns. Face red with rage, he surges forward again, pulling out a secondary dagger from his side.

Then the door flies open and the tavern seems to freeze again.

Yasha struts in, her expression impassive. Beau immediately gets up off the human and takes a more nonchalant stance. Mismatched eyes scan the scene and suddenly, she's there, hauling the humanoid up off his feet. “What do you think you're doing?” she asks, her voice soft but ice cold.

The man's bravado disappears and his weapons clatter to the ground. “It was just a misunderstanding, ma'am. Meant no harm by it, I swear!”

“You know, you're a really bad liar,” Jester points out, unfazed by his glare. “Yasha, he was causing Molly trouble.”

Caleb didn't think it possible, but Yasha's expression grows even darker as she leans in. “If I ever see you again _anywhere_ , I will finish the job.”

With her free hand, she grabs the man's belt and proceeds to send him flying out the door.

Behind her, Jester helpfully drags the other two outside and waves them off with less convincing threats.

“Are you alright, Mollymauk?” Yasha asks quietly, walking over to the tiefling and placing a kiss on his horn.

Molly smiles, hands and tail immediately reaching for her as he leans up to kiss her on the cheek. “Perfect, my dear. You always know just when to come back. How was your trip?”

Feeling like he's intruding on a private moment, Caleb turns and watches Jester and Beau return to the table with happy grins on their faces. “Fjord, did you see that? We were _so_ good!”

“Yeah, you really showed them. Didn’t break anything either this time. Good job.”

“Damn, man,” Beau tells him. “What was that spell? Things were really good and then everything was shit.”

Caleb nods. “Ja, that is normal for a haste spell. It fills you with energy for a minute but it has to come from somewhere.”

“You two were very impressive out there,” Nott tells them with awe in her voice.

A quiet voice, Jester roars, “Yeah, Filthy Orb-Gobblers!”

At the bar, Molly is explaining the situation to the other staff members while Yasha brings a round of drinks to the table Molly had nearly knocked over earlier, earning herself a round of enthusiastic compliments that she shyly brushes off.

Eventually, the two of them converge at their table, Molly casually leaning against the taller woman in a way that sets off more alarms in his head. “Thanks for your help, dears. Consider your lunch on me.”

Jester beams. “It's a good thing we came here today! We're _really_ fucking strong!”

Yasha's lips curl up slightly, her arms folded. “So you are.”

“It's a good thing I had you ladies backing me up or who knows what would've happened,” Molly chirps.

Despite the words, nothing in his voice gives away any sign of fear or uncertainty, Caleb notes. It’s almost as if he was putting on a show for them—like he had merely been toying with the man.

“Does this kind of thing happen very often?” he asks carefully.

“Bar fights? Yes,” Molly answers. “Misplaced vendettas? Also yes.” He shrugs and says dramatically, “ _Tieflings_. We seem to get love and blame in equal amounts. They want us one second and then they want us gone the next.” Jester nods along wisely. “We can't all be Jester's mom.”

She nods again solemnly. “It's true. Everybody loves my mom.”

“Normally Bo and Yasha step in before things can escalate. I'm not much of a fighter, you see,” Molly tells them, showing off his slender wrists.

Nott leans forward, giving voice to his thoughts, “You seemed very good at dodging.”

The tiefling smiles. “I don't like getting hit. That hurts. It's not the kind of pain I'm into, you know?” Picking up a couple of utensils off the table, he begins juggling them. “Besides, before this tavern, we used to be a circus: _Fletching and Moondrop's Traveling Circus of Curiosities_. One learns to be dexterous.”

“Oh! Is that where you learned to do readings?” Jester asks excitedly.

“Got it in one,” he replies. “I’ll give you a free one later if you want.”

Beau arches a brow. “Why'd you guys stop the circus?”

A shrug. “Better money? More stability? I think mostly they wanted a place to call their own.”

“But not you?” Nott asks, her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I haven't decided yet. This life is still young. I was happy on the road, but for now, Zadash will do. Especially with the three strongest warriors in the city here to protect my honour,” he coos, earning him a round of laughter from the table. Then turning his head slightly, Molly throws a smile and a wink his way.

The fight still nagging at the back of his mind, Caleb files it away to be analyzed later at his leisure.

For now, he needs to focus on keeping his eyes off Mollymauk.

\--

Later, in the privacy of their apartment, he listens to Nott excitedly recount her adventure in the market with Jester. He waits until she finishes her story and smiles at him. “And you were so good today! You didn't vomit or walk away even once!”

He smiles weakly, his mind supplying him with all the instances he'd been tempted to do one or both those things in the last few hours. “That fight was something, huh?” he asks, changing the topic to the problem he's been trying to unravel since lunch.

Nott scoffs. “Something like two contract killers getting into a bar fight?”

Caleb nods, unable to argue the point, “That certainly is something, but I am talking about Mollymauk. He knew how to fight—and very well, it seems. It was obvious he was just playing with his food.”

Yellow eyes study him closely for a moment. “Maybe he learned in the circus. Molly seems like the type to attract trouble, and you seem very interested in him, Caleb.”

Fighting the blush threatening to colour his cheeks, he frowns. “There is just something off about him. As Beauregard said, he is shifty.”

“She said that about us too,” Nott points out. “In fact, we're all shifty. Everyone at that table kills for a living.”

“Ja, I can't argue with that. If you do not think it is anything to worry about then perhaps I am just reading too much into it,” he concedes.

Nott pauses and says carefully, “Caleb, you know I love you, right?”

He furrows his brows. “Why?”

“You know I'll still love you no matter who you choose to be with, right? I mean, you're a grown man and so smart! I trust that you can make your own decisions. And Mollymauk certainly is a unique one. He always has someone chasing him through town either with fists or flowers. I can see why you might find him...intriguing.

“Listen, if you ever want to catch him, I'm sure I can pin down that ridiculous coat of his for you. We're very good at our jobs and I have pretty good aim, so you just let me know,” she offers, patting him on the hand.

The heat runs up his neck and face and spreads to his ears as he sputters, “I—nein, I do not—das ist nicht—” Jaw clamping shut with a click, he takes a deep breath and squeaks, “Let's just finish try to our preparations before Jester calls for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caleb is that child that gets left behind in an aisle of a supermarket because his mom spotted a friend or a neighbour. Meanwhile, Yasha rolls a nat 20 on intimidation
> 
> Bonus Scene (If Caleb took up Nott's offer):
> 
> Finally cornering Mollymauk, Nott hops up onto a barrel next to him and screeches at him, " _Date my boy!_ "
> 
> Molly stares, baffled and alarmed. "What? Who's your boy?"
> 
> "Caleb Widogast! He's _amazing_!"
> 
> The tiefling furrows his brows. "Okay? Sure?"
> 
> She scowls. "No! You don't deserve him!"
> 
> "????????"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a bit of a bonus in the footnotes of the previous chapter because some of your comments about Nott being the mom-est friend made me laugh so feel free to check it out :)

" _Hi Cay-leb! It's Jester! Remember me? Of course you do. I'm just letting you know that we're ready for you guys! Come over and bring—_ "

On the basis of that message, he and Nott make their way over to the Tri-Spires through the sewers and find themselves standing in front of the Pillow Trove. The staff smile at them, their disguises allowing them to blend in with the area and garner some semblance of respect, no matter how superficial.

"Caleb, are you sure this is the right place?" Nott whispers. "They live in a hotel?"

He nods. "This is what Fjord wrote down. Maybe you can try to message one of them?"

"Hello. Can I help you?" the woman at the front asks.

Caleb clears his throat and takes a step forward to hide Nott from view. "Ah, ja, we are friends of some people staying here. They asked us to pay them a visit?"

She nods. "Of course, sir. I can help you with that. May I have their names?"

He pauses, unsure what names their rooms may be under.

"There you are! I was afraid you wouldn't come!" a voice calls to them from the top of the stairs. Jester waves, saving him from having to answer the woman. "It's okay! They're with me! Come up here!"

Following the blue tiefling, they make their way up to a corner room where the rest of the Ball-Eaters are waiting. Beau gives them a nod and Caleb nods back. "Hallo, I am afraid I did not hear what you wanted me to bring."

Jester pouts. "I know, sorry. I wanted you to bring the subscription."

Caleb glances around the hotel room. While definitely more luxurious than their cozy little apartment, it feels far less private. "Is this safe?"

"Don't worry," Fjord reassures him. "The next room over's mine. So long as we’re not shouting, we should be fine."

Satisfied with that answer, Nott steps forward. "If it's just the subscription you can just ask Caleb! I told you he was smart. He remembers _everything!_ "

The tiefling turns to him, her eyes wide and sparkling with curiosity. "Caleb, is that true?"

He shrugs. "More or less, I suppose. Was there anything in particular you needed to know about the job?"

“I just wanted to know what specifications there were. Like, are we allowed to steal other things? Do we need to hide any bodies or plant evidence? Is there extra coin for letters or something? You know, that sort of thing."

"…so the whole thing?"

"Hey, man, we were preoccupied with finding you two. We didn't think we'd just run into you like that," Beau says, jumping in to her friend’s defense. "And we may have lost the thing."

Fjord crosses his arms.

The monk immediately shrugs. "I mean, no one's going to find it. I'm pretty sure all the ink's run off from all that grease anyway."

Nott glances over at him with a baffled expression and he returns one in kind.

"We ordered a meat platter and used the parchment to soak some of the grease," Jester explains. "We were gonna wait for next week to plan it all out, but then we found you!"

Caleb sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "The job you want to team up for is the High Richter, ja?"

Jester nods. "Wow, Caleb, you really _are_ super smart!"

"I told you!" Nott exclaims triumphantly.

"Okay, settle down," he tells the pair gently. "Fjord, do you have some parchment and ink? I can write the details down for you. Nott and I have already started preparing for the job, but with your help, this may go smoother yet."

\--

"Well, that went poorly," Fjord sighs.

"Shh! You're gonna wake someone up!" Nott shushes him.

"We already did!" Beau hisses as she pushes the unconscious servant into a nearby closet.

Getting onto the High Richter's property proved to be the simplest part of the mission. Scaling the walls in between guard patrols took minimal effort, and with the help of some of Nott’s lock picking skills, they practically waltzed through the backdoor.

Only to find a servant staring at them in shock, a late-night snack in his hands.

In her own surprise, Beau punched the poor man and knocked him out cold.

Then proceeded to hide his body in the broom closet.

Caleb stifles a sigh and scans the room for any other servants lurking about only to find the space empty. "Goblina, can you check the hallway?"

Picking the fallen sandwich off the floor, Nott gobbles it up and scampers over. " _Oh_ ," Beau suddenly whispers from his side. "I just got it. Goblina. Goblin. That's a good one."

Her revelation is softly echoed by the other two Ball-Eaters. Not for the first time that night, Caleb wonders if teaming up was the best idea for such a high-profile job, but then he hears in his head, "All clear! There's something fishy about the stairs though. You can reply to this message!"

"Understood, we are on our way." Turning back, he tells the others, "Looks like the coast is clear."

They sneak forward to the staircase where Nott is waiting, and he can immediately see what she means. The stairs are lined with statues, but something about them seem off.

There's a tap on his shoulder. "Dirty Drifter." Caleb looks back and faintly sees Jester pointing at the statues. "The dust is all wrong."

Sending his globes of lights up to the nearest statue, he sees the faint marks in the dust and nods. "I think you may be right. Good catch. We should all stay off the staircase. There is a very good chance it is loaded with traps."

"Well, how do we go about un-trapping it?" Fjord asks.

"Tracy, Lady Fancypants, help me turn this statue so the dust marks line up," Caleb instructs, pointedly ignoring Nott as she elbows Fjord and flails her arms teasingly. "If we can do that for all the statues, that should disarm the trap, ja? It is a good one. Subtle."

Jester nods, her smile wide and enthusiastic. "Just leave it to us!"

It's a pleasant surprise when they manage to disarm the entire staircase without any further catastrophes, although that probably says more about his faith in teamwork than the Ball-Eaters' abilities.

Pushing that thought aside, they stride upstairs together while Beau stays back to stand guard.

One by one, they poke their heads into the rooms only to find them devoid of life. At one point, he manages to pocket a magical scroll, but otherwise, their target is nowhere to be seen.

"Shit, we watched her go home though," Jester mutters, "and she never left. So she must still be here somewhere!"

Nott nods in agreement. "Well, if I was a crazy powerful person that was hated by a bunch of people, I probably wouldn't sleep somewhere as obvious as a bedroom."

Jester perks up. "Goblina, you're a genius! We should see if there's a basement or some secret room! The Dirty Ball-Eaters are on the case!"

The four of them race back down and fill Beau in on the situation before splitting up to look for hidden doorway. In the end, it's Fjord who gathers them back together after a few minutes. Pointing to a back wall in a closet, he pushes at it lightly, revealing a faint rectangular frame. "That looks pretty secret to me, don't you think."

"You're so good at investigating, Oskar," the tiefling coos.

Beau nods. "Yeah, man, good eye."

Despite himself, Fjord lets out a smile. "Thanks, you two."

Caleb clears his throat lightly. It would be too easy to get caught up in their easy camaraderie, but that's not what he's here to do. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but how should we do this? I have not been able to survey this part of the house and we do not have the time for me to change Frumpkin's shape."

"I can go scout it out," Nott offers.

He nods, unable to come up with a more reliable solution to their problem. "Wait," Jester whispers. She holds a hand up and glows faintly for a moment. "You've been blessed by the Traveler!"

Nott furrows her brows in confusion. "Okay? Thank you?"

The tiefling grins back. "You're welcome. Now go be stealthy, Goblina!"

With his limited vision in the dark, even with his transmuter’s stone, he barely sees her slip between the gap and into whatever room the door leads to.

The four of them wait around in tense silence while Beau and Fjord return to their positions in the hallway to stand guard. Minutes pass when he hears in his mind, "Caleb, she's here! I think—wait, shit! She's awake! There are guards! I'm coming back!" A shriek. Then, "You can reply to this message!"

"The High Richter is coming up with guards," Caleb tells the others, his voice raising with urgency. Readying a Fire Bolt, he calls out, "Get ready to fight!"

In the back of his mind, he half expects to turn around to an empty hall. No one in their right minds would stick around to fend for a pair of strangers. Yet, glancing back, he sees Jester bring forth a duplicate to stand by the door while Beau runs over and moves into a ready stance.

Nott bursts through the door, immediately winding partway up the stair and disappearing behind one of the statues, only the tip of her loaded crossbow visible.

The first guard that follows after her immediately gets knocked back by two blasts of magic. Fjord takes a step back, ready to defend with his falchion in hand.

He manages to land a hit on the next one and quickly adjusts his transmuter’s stone to make himself a little hardier.

As the guards file out, one by one, they launch their attacks, taking down all four of them before a wave of magic pushes them back into the main hall.

"How bold of you to try to take me out in my own house. I do believe I can easily put all of you to death for this," a woman's voice comes. "But you've piqued my curiosity. Who put you up to this? Tell me and perhaps I'll consider lowering the sentence to a life behind bars in the Umber Dungeon."

"How mightily kind of you," Fjord mutters dryly.

Caleb's running through his list of spells when the woman suddenly turns around and faces the stairway. "Another one? Show yourself!"

He thinks she's spotted Nott but the High Richter's eyes are focused on something at the bottom of the stairs. With a grunt, a dwarven man appears, dressed in dark clothes and a dark green-brown cloak. In his hands, he's clutching a wad of paper in one and a dagger in the other.

"You. You put my wife in chains even though you knew she's innocent! I have the proof now! It's over for you!" he all but shouts at the woman.

The High Richter chuckles, dark and unmoved. "And how do you plan on delivering it? Have you forgotten where you are?" She brings out a bell and yelps when a crossbow bolt suddenly knocks it from her hand.

Jester makes a dive for it and catches the bell before crushing it with her bare hands and Caleb can only gawk at her for a moment.

It's a move he would've expected from the Charm, not Lady Fancypants.

Scowling, the woman turns back to them and shouts, "You think that's enough to stop me? I won't stop until I have every single last one of your heads!" She turns to the dwarf and sneers. "And you, I'll make sure your wife never steps foot out of jail again, and I'll be sure to let her know exactly who is to blame for it."

The dwarf stills at her words. His hands tighten around the papers once before handing them over to Nott with a quiet murmur.

The High Richter goes to move and Jester snarls, her old woman disguise distorting a little at the expression. "You stop that!"

Her duplicate raises a glowing hand but the woman scowls and shakes off whatever intended effect that spell had, but as she's distracted, the dwarf launches himself at her.

Caleb watches as the dwarf knocks her over and forces an orange bead into her mouth and clamps his hands over it. He looks up, his face tear-streaked and mournful. "Iliana…"

Suddenly, a white flash fills the room and his vision goes black.

\--

"… _on_. C'mon! Yes! Dirty Drifter, you're back!"

"Lady Fancypants, you are the _best_ healer!"

“I am, aren’t I?”

Opening his eyes groggily, he sees an old woman and a halfling girl looking down at him and gingerly sits up. It feels like he just got stomped on by a hill giant. Pushing past the pain, he asks, "What happened?"

"That fireball got you pretty bad, dude," Beau tells him, clutching at her arm. "We don't have time for this. Guards from all over the city are gonna be on our asses in a few minutes. Can you stand?"

Caleb nods and forces himself up onto his feet. Glancing over, he sees a charred pile of ashes and burnt flesh on the ground not too far from him. Quickly swallowing down the nausea, he looks away. "Ja, I am up," he says, his ears still ringing. "Now what?"

"Now we run," the monk tells him. "Oh, but you should probably get your magic elf face back on. That blast took it right off."

"Half-elf," he grumbles, casting the spell once more.

Nott tugs at his coat. "Are you sure you're alright? Maybe we should heal you one more time."

He spares her a smile. "I will be fine and much better once we leave this place. We have the proof of kill?"

Jester holds up the bell. "I may have accidentally crushed it a little maybe. But you can still see the emblem! Maybe I can mend it later?"

Caleb shrugs. "I am sure it will be fine. Let's go."

They stagger out the backdoor and into the yard. With a boost from Beau and Jester, he manages to scale the wall and lands ungracefully in the alleyway behind the house. With his hands against the wall for support, he waits for the others.

One by one, the rest of the group climb the walls just in time to hear voices gathering on the property.

"We can't be seen in a group," Fjord whispers. "Let's split up and meet back at the Pillow Trove."

"Yeah, okay," Beau replies, quickly taking off her mask and shoving it into Jester's backpack.

He shakes his head. "Nein, that’s too public. People will see us. People will notice. Our apartment is in a quiet part of town. We meet there. Goblina will probably make it back first so she can let you in."

Nott arches a brow at him.

Caleb shrugs back.

It's not like they have much of a choice at this point.

Quickly giving out instructions to the apartment, they break off in different directions.

Legs still weak from the blast, Caleb opts for the winding back alleys of the Gilded Willows, having navigated them before for Lord Sutan's job. Block after block, his body protests against the strain but he ignores it. It's easy to ignore the pains and aches. He's had practice. He's had _training_.

Rounding the corner, the air is knocked from his lungs when someone crashes into him. A hand immediately wraps around his arm to keep him upright.

Winded by the impact, he looks up to see a familiar mask grinning back at him.

Caleb immediately readies a spell but Nonagon merely raises a finger to their masked lips. It's only then that he notices their cloak's been flipped, concealing the more colourful side with dark colours meant to blend in with the dark urban streets.

From down the block, more voices start approaching.

Nonagon's head whips around back towards the direction they came and hisses a quiet curse under their breath. Then, still gripping his arm, Nonagon pulls him along and the two of them continue running.

\--

They manage to get out of the Gilded Willows and back into the Silken Terrace when they take a left and wind up at a dead end.

"Where did they go?"

"C'mon, I'm pretty sure they came this way!"

Nonagon looks up at the towering brick walls, too high to scale but too thick to break and hisses another curse.

The footsteps of the heavily armoured guards continue drawing closer still.

Rounding back on him, Nonagon pins him against the wall and whispers, "Play along and don't look."

Before Caleb can question the words, Nonagon leans forward and suddenly, there are lips covering his.

They're soft and lush and his mind blanks for a moment it's been so long since he last kissed someone.

And then he's kissing back.

 _Playing along_ , he corrects himself as his tongue runs over sharpened teeth and a forked tongue.

They part momentarily and he wishes he kept his transmuter's stone on dark vision because Nonagon's mask is _off_ but all he can see right now is darkness.

He's quickly snapped out of his thoughts when the guards get to the end of the alley they're in and Nonagon suddenly sinks down to their knees and presses their nose against his thigh.

Caleb instinctively reaches down, his hands landing on the hood obscuring Nonagon's face and his eyes widen when he notices what’s underneath the cloth.

 _Horns_.

"Who goes there!?"

Nonagon shifts slightly, their face still pressed against his leg, keeping their features out of view. "My," they say, their voice noticeably higher pitched than before, "so many customers today. Form a line and wait your turn and have your gold ready."

The guard sputters and Caleb lets out a strangled noise and pitches forward when his inner thigh gets pinched.

"Sir?"

"Not here. No one here but a man and his whore. Let's keep going. They can't be far."

As the footsteps retreat, the two of them hold their breaths and wait a minute longer before letting out twin sighs of relief.

Slipping their mask back on, Nonagon gets back onto their feet and gives him a light pat on the cheek. "Not bad. Come say hi next time." Then turning around, they run off and disappear into the sprawling backstreets of the Tri-Spires.

Still stunned, Caleb waits for exactly two minutes before gathering himself and making his own way back out the alley just in time to hear,

_"Cay-leb, are you okay? We're all at the apartment now and Nott's super worried about you right now. Did you get lost? Did you get—"_

"I'm alright," he replies, feeling far shakier than his voice lets on. "There was a bit of a setback but I'm on my way back. Please let Nott know. …thank you for checking on me."

As he finds his way down into the sewers to get out of the Tri-Spires, in the back of his mind, he replays the whole scene out again. But this time, one new detail catches his attention:

Nonagon smelled of incense and light floral perfume.

Then he realizes another thing.

_Come say hi next time._

Nonagon knows.

\--

When he returns to the apartment, Nott and the Ball-Eaters are all waiting for him. The goblin immediately throws herself at him, demanding he show her all of his wounds.

Jester does her best to calm Nott down and offers a healing spell, which he gratefully accepts. "I'm sorry you got caught up in the blast, Caleb."

He shakes his head. "I was not the only one," he says, motioning to Beau and her bandaged arm. "That was pretty shit, but it was not anybody's fault."

"It was pretty shit alright," Beau mutters. "Does anyone know who that dwarf was?"

"No, but he gave me these," Nott says, pulling the wad of paper from her cloak. "He asked me to deliver them to some guy named 'Dolan Thrym'. These look like trial notes."

Fjord arches a brow. "I think I've heard of the guy. Used to own a practice or something. I think I may know how to find him."

Nott frowns as she reads over the notes. "It looks like he was trying to get his wife out of jail after she was wrongly imprisoned—on purpose."

"Man, that High Richter was a real piece of work," Beau mutters. "I don't normally say this what with our job being what it is, but I think we did a good thing tonight."

"And we'll get paid for it," Jester chimes in easily.

Holding out a hand, Fjord offers, "Why don't you give that to me and I can deliver it to Dolan tomorrow or maybe when the heat's died a little."

She nods and passes the papers over then turns back to Caleb. "You said you hit a setback? What happened? Are you okay? Did you get hurt? Did you have to kill anybody? We can go back for the body if you need!"

Caleb immediately holds his hands up to calm her. He's been replaying the scene in his head on repeat and convinced himself to let the issue sit until tomorrow. After all, there's nothing either of them can do to the other without putting themselves at risk. "I am fine, Nott. No one else died. I just ran into our old friend, Nonagon."

Everyone stares at him. "Nonagon? Did they try to hurt you? Do we have to kill them!?" Nott demands.

"Nein, I think they were out on another job, though it may not have gone that well for them either. We escaped the guards together." He glances over at the other three and asks, "Have you come across Nonagon and the Charm before?"

Beau nods. "Yeah, the shifty fuckers with the masks, right? They seemed alright though, if quiet."

"The shifty fuckers seemed alright," he can't help but repeat, wincing when she slaps him lightly on the arm. "Well, I ran into them and then we parted ways after we lost the guards. That's all."

Nott doesn't look convinced, but he knows she won't press the issue any further until they're alone.

Turning his attention back to the Ball-Eaters, he clears his throat sheepishly. "Thank you for saving my life back there, and for sticking around when things got ugly."

Jester blinks at him and says earnestly, "Of course we did. There’s no need to thank us. We're _partners_ , Caleb. And even more than that, we're friends!"

Wide-eyed and unsure how to respond, he nods. "Ja, okay. Thank you, Jester. I need to get all this soot off my clothes so please excuse me—oh, and feel free to stay the night."

And he flees to his bedroom.

"He does that sometimes," he hears Nott say. "But we're both really grateful. We really are! Oh, Jester, look, we're using that little dick statue you gave us as a paperweight over there!"

\--

The next morning, he wanders back out. His mind is still running over possible ways to confront Nonagon even as he sheepishly offers to cast Prestidigitation on Beau's clothes to clean them of any evidence that may have been blasted onto them from the fireball.

"That's pretty useful," Beau remarks, thankfully not bringing up his behaviour from last night.

"Ja, I bought a scroll from Pumat Sol and learned it when we first got here," he explains half-heartedly. "This job can get very messy at times, so it has been very useful indeed."

Then, without the means to feed six people in their apartment, a collective decision is made to go pay Caduceus a visit for tea and brunch and gossip before going to collect their reward. As they step out of the apartment, Jester is excitedly making a list of all the pastry shops she plans on taking Nott to with their newly earned money. "…and they make bear claws! With _cinnamon_! Just like in Nicodranas! You _have_ to try it, Nott! It’s _so_ good."

"It sounds delicious, Jester.” As if sensing his absentmindedness, she adds, “It sounds great, doesn’t it, Caleb?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, he blinks and nods along. “Ja, it sounds terrific, Nott.”

\--

They're part-way through their meal and Jester is animatedly recanting a recent story to Caduceus when Caleb sets his empty plate down and leans in to whisper to Nott, "Ah, I actually have something I need to go buy, so would you be okay going to collect the reward with our new…friends?"

She eyes him for a long moment. "I don't mind, Caleb. Do you need me to go with you or will you be alright on your own?"

He quickly nods. "I believe I will be fine on my own, Nott. I just want to make sure they don't run out before I get there."

"Be careful and message me if you need help 'carrying' anything, okay?" she tells him warily.

Breathing a silent sigh of relief, Caleb smiles back reassuringly. "I will. Danke, Nott. I promise I will tell you all about my purchase later."

Nott gives him a slow nod. "Okay, as long as you stay safe."

Quickly excusing himself and thanking Caduceus for the meal, he jogs out of the yard and back onto the streets. Glancing around to ensure no one's following him, he heads straight for Fletching and Moondrop's.

\--

Inside the tavern, he finds Mollymauk behind the bar and chatting idly with Yasha, who’s leaning against the counter casually as the patrons around them converse and eat. He marches up to the bar, and Molly, noticing him, arches a brow and rests his head on his hands with a curious smile. "Why, Mister Caleb, have I finally done something to warrant your attention?"

Caleb frowns, his dagger sitting heavy in his thigh holster. "Mister Mollymauk, I think we need to talk."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine underneath that cloak, Molly is wearing something like [this](https://selfish-cat.tumblr.com/post/184818876595/redelicebeta-essik-theylas-and-mollymauk) by [redelice](https://redelicebeta.tumblr.com) because dang, why _wouldn't_ he?


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter that raised the rating

The easy smile on Molly's face shifts into something more cautious, more on edge, though the curiosity remains. “Oh? What about?”

Watching the tiefling now with the meticulous way he carries himself to appear carefree and harmless, Caleb feels like kicking himself for not seeing it. All this time, both Nonagon and the Charm were hiding in plain sight and he was foolish enough to fall for it like everyone else.

 _How can you possibly expect to even walk into Rexxentrum with such carelessness,_ that voice in the back of his mind taunts.

Waving the thought off, he turns his attention back to the pair, both now watching him with a mix of guardedness and interest.

At least this explains why it he always felt the need to keep an eye on Mollymauk.

Caleb spares an uneasy glance over towards Yasha and says, “In private, if you do not mind.”

At this, Yasha pushes herself off the counter and eyes him warily. Although she's unarmed, he can see her itching to step forward to scare him off despite them having left on a decent note during his last visit. And just the thought of it _does_ scare him, all the more so when he sees her as the Charm in his mind.

“It's alright, dear,” Molly says, placing a hand on her arm. His fingers seem to barely touch her, but it's enough to calm the woman down almost immediately. “Would you mind watching the bar for me?”

She stills and narrows her eyes slightly at Caleb, but she nods and says, “Of course, Mollymauk. If you're sure.”

Wiping his hands off with a cloth, the tiefling saunters out from behind the bar and trades places with Yasha, exchanging quiet words with her as he passes, his tail wrapping briefly around her leg reassuringly. Then, coming out from behind the bar with his hands at his hips, he smiles and gestures towards the stairs. “So, shall we?”

The shift in the tiefling's demeanor has him on alert, even more so than before, but he nods anyway. “Ja, please lead the way.”

Sauntering over to the stairway, Molly glanced back and beckons him over. “Right this way, Mister Caleb.”

Following the tiefling, Caleb spares the tavern a glance back. Most of the patrons are either ignoring or didn't notice their exchange, though more than a few are sending winks and waggling their eyebrows at him—one man even goes so far as to let out a wolf whistle. Face heating up at the attention, he speeds up a little and makes his way up the stairs.

He'll have to do this quick. There are too many witnesses now. He's fucked this up already. He'll have to take care of this, get Nott, and they'll have to leave town before dawn—before people notice the absence of Mollymauk Tealeaf.

Heart and thoughts still racing, he walks behind the tiefling down the narrow hall until they reach a door at the very back. Humming a familiar jaunty tune to himself, Molly pulls out a key from his kaleidoscopic coat and unlocks it, revealing a small, simple bedroom inside.

It takes him a few moments to fully take the room in. Half of the walls are covered ceiling to floor with tapestries and an assortment of posters and flyers of shows and events that have passed through town. Under the window, there's a small dais set up with a bundle on top, carefully wrapped in a luxurious white cloth.

Molly walks over to the makeshift shrine and leans back against the wall casually. “So? You've got me alone. What now, Mister Caleb?”

Forcing his mind to still and focus, Caleb closes the door behind him and subtly locks it with a silent click. Shoulders back and relaxed like he's practiced a million times, he walks over to the tiefling. “Now we talk about last night, Mister Mollymauk. Or, should I say ' _Nonagon'_?”

Realization lights up in those crimson eyes, but Molly doesn't seem fazed by the news. If anything, his grin widens and he rocks excitedly on the heel of his boots. “Ah, yes, last night. I was hoping it was you. I had a feeling.” Then he laughs. “You still haven't said hi to me yet!”

“I still have not been properly motivated to,” he mutters, playing along.

His fingers twitch toward his dagger.

He needs to do this now.

Crossing his arms, Molly tilts his head and arches a brow. “That's a shame. If that didn't work, I'm afraid I don't know what will. Are you here to take me out then? Or are you here to continue where we left off last night?”

Snapped out of his thoughts, Caleb does a double-take and stares, dumbstruck. “What?”

“I think you heard me perfectly fine.” Smiling, Molly spreads his arms invitingly and bows forward slightly. “Well? What'll it be?”

Quickly gathering himself, he steps forward and pulls out his dagger just as Molly reaches down and withdraws a sword from the white bundle on the shrine. “I choose the latter.”

“No loss. Equally fun for me.” Their blades clash and crimson eyes twinkle with excitement. Hopping back, Molly raises his blade in a defensive stance. “Not going to use your magic?”

“Not for you,” Caleb mutters, lunging forward and withdrawing his second dagger to take another swipe.

Molly grins and retrieves his other sword from the bundle and holds them up to block his attack. “That's very kind of you. Gustav would get upset if I destroyed another room.”

“Ja, well, I would hate to leave a mess.”

He narrows his eyes and pulls back only and feints his next attack, goading Molly to leaving his side open. The room is small and cramped with little space to dodge, but where he lacks dexterity he more than makes up for it in his intelligence and training.

His blow is about to land when a tail wraps around his ankle and pulls. Quickly stopping and planting his feet firmly on the ground to avoid falling prone, he raises a dagger just as Molly whips back around with one of his blades.

The dagger goes flying.

“Still not going to use your magic?” Molly taunts.

Caleb frowns, giving his fallen dagger a calculating glance. Even if he's attacked, he has more than enough time to reach it and parry.

But then Molly stills and smiles. “No? Well, allow me then.”

Spotting a trickle of blood running down the tiefling's neck, his vision suddenly goes black. He curses loudly and ducks down to wipe the black ichor running from his eyes on his sleeve.

Then, sensing the tiefling approaching, he raises his free hand and lets loose a Fire Bolt and hears it impact with a soft grunt.

Vision returning to him as he scrubs at his face, he sees Molly looking down and distracted by his singed shirt and runs forward and tackles the tiefling.

They both go tumbling onto the bed, blades clattering on the ground.

Straddling the other man, Caleb manages pin Molly's arms down. Crimson eyes merely watch him, the body underneath him, warm and compliant.

“Very nicely done. Guess you got me.” Despite those words, he knows he hasn't secured his victory just yet. Eyes never leaving his, Molly grins and runs that wicked forked tongue over those sharpened teeth. “So, what now?”

He considers his options for a moment, but suddenly sensing danger at his back, Caleb leans down and captures the tiefling's mouth with his own, swallowing a squawk of surprise.

Behind him, a dagger hits the floor with a thump.

And then Mollymauk is kissing him back.

\--

“Gods, this was a terrible idea.”

Eyes still wide and disbelieving of what just transpired, Caleb peels himself off of the tiefling under him.

“Oh, definitely.” Laughing, Molly reaches up and flips them around, his tail flickering mischievously. “Let's do it again, Mister Caleb.”

\--

“Well, I think it's safe to say that repetition has _not_ made this idea any less terrible,” Molly declares, rolling onto his back, slowly catching his breath.

He should kill the tiefling now while he's vulnerable, a voice tells him. Kill him before he becomes a threat. Before it affects Nott. Before Yasha realizes her partner's in danger. Before—

Even as the voice continues to scream at him, Caleb turns and catches Molly's lips once more and says, “How about once more, Mister Mollymauk? Just to be sure.”

\--

“Ja, an absolutely terrible idea,” Caleb groans, burying his face in the crook between Molly's neck.

Molly breathes a laugh, his own chest still heaving. “Yes, I believe we can _thoroughly_ agree on that. Do you think you can magic us clean?”

Caleb scrubs his face, feeling his cheeks redden despite already being flushed. “Not if I want to use that spell to clean anything else ever again.”

Another laugh and he feels a tail curl lazily around his ankle. “I'm going to take that as a compliment.”

Finally finding the energy to slide off the tiefling, he huffs. “Should we call this a truce then?”

Arching a brow, Molly turns onto his side to face him. “Oh? Is this how you conduct all your business meetings, Caleb?”

He makes a face. “Nein, of course not. I just meant we will keep each other's secret—although to clarify, that is not what this was.”

“What was this then?”

“A terrible idea.”

Molly chuckles and leans forward to plant a kiss on his nose. “That's fine. This can be whatever you want it to be, Caleb. Let me know when you make up your mind. Until then, you're always welcome back to… _really_ make sure.”

Groaning, he rolls onto his back with his arm draped over his eyes, still too exhausted to do much else. “If we keep this up, you are going to be the death of me, Mollymauk.”

A snicker. “I'm _very_ good at my job, though what a way to go. I'm a little envious.”

“Go get me my dagger and maybe we can work something out,” Caleb grumbles back.

Leaning forward and resting his chin on his chest, Molly smiles. “Even though we have such a nice _long_ 'truce' going?”

Caleb scoffs. “This 'truce' is already turning into a test of endurance and we are only on our first day.”

“Well, what good is a 'truce' if it doesn't last?”

“Clever.” He peeks out from under his arm. “I do not suppose this truce means we will be working together any time soon?”

The tail around his leg freezes for a moment and he stores the tell in his memory for later analysis. “Probably not. I rather like our current arrangement. Besides,” he runs a hand down Caleb's leg, drawing a shiver from him, “I can think of all sorts of ways to make our next run-in _much_ more interesting.”

Despite himself, his breath hitches. “That sounds like a bad idea.”

“Oh,” Molly purrs, “it's absolutely _terrible_.”

\--

Caleb tugs on his scarf a little as he stands in front of the door to the apartment, adjusting the cloth to hide the marks littering his neck. Taking a deep breath, he steps inside to see Nott alone at the kitchen table. “Uh, hallo? I'm back. Sorry that took so long.”

Both she and Frumpkin immediately launch themselves off the chair and away from her alchemy set towards him. Inspecting him closely this way and that. “Are you alright, Caleb? Do we need to get Jester? Who was it!? Who did you fight!? I'll kill them! I'll kill them all!”

Quickly taking a step back and pulling his scarf around his neck a little tighter, Caleb reassures her, “I am fine, Nott. There was no fight, not a very serious one anyway. Um, maybe you want to sit down for this.”

Nott narrows her eyes. “Why?” Lifting her head and sniffing the air, she notes, “You smell less sooty than you did this morning.”

“Ja, that would be because I stopped by a bathhouse on the way back,” he explains with a noncommittal wave.

He can feel her eyes burrowing into his head even as he turns away. “What did you have to 'buy' that was so urgent anyway?”

“Nein, nothing, it is really not a big deal, but can you please promise not to tell the Ball-Eaters about this. This is strictly a Mother and Child thing. For now at least, okay?” he asks.

She nods without hesitation, now more curious than wary. “What is it, Caleb? What'd you find?”

Caleb reaches up to rub the back of his neck but then remembers his scarf and runs a hand through his hair instead. “Ah, well, you know last night? How I was delayed?”

“Yes, you ran into Nonagon, right?”

“Ja, that is correct. It is nothing to worry about, but I…” Unsure of how to break the news or even the appropriate amount of news to break, he simply blurts out, “It's Mollymauk. He knows about us and I know about them and we came to an…agreement of sorts. I figured you should know all this because Yasha definitely also knows now.”

Running out of breath, he inhales deeply and waits for her reaction.

“…so what you're telling me is Mollymauk Tealeaf from Molly's is Nonagon. And Yasha, the tall lady who threw that guy out onto the streets, is the Charm,” Nott says slowly.

Caleb nods. “Ja, you got it.”

“I mean, when you think about it, it makes a lot of sense—even just aesthetically. Why doesn't he want Jester to know?” she asks.

“Not Jester specifically, just anyone. I do not think he knows who the Ball-Eaters are yet or they him. We know both parties now but I have no intention of spilling secrets to one side or the other,” he explains.

Tilting her head curiously, Nott points out, “If they've had run-ins with the Ball-Eaters before, I wouldn't be surprised if they already know about Jester and them. They're not exactly masters of accents like we are, Caleb.”

He smiles a little at this. “That is a good point, but Nonagon and the Charm are not exactly the most social during a job.”

She nods. “That's true. They're very serious when they're working, aren't they? It's a little strange considering what Molly's normally like.”

His mind helpfully supplies him with memories from their spar earlier. Molly had smiled and teased him the whole way through, and he suspects the tiefling would act the same way during jobs if not for the need for secrecy. “I do not think serious is the right word for it. I think it would take a lot for Mollymauk to take anything seriously, but that is not what we are talking about. Now, I know you like Jester, but maybe we should stay a neutral party, ja? That does not mean we have to stop being friends.”

Yellow eyes continue watching him. “I can do that. Sort of like a client-friend-confidentiality thing. Can _you_ stay neutral, though, Caleb? What with your thing with Molly?”

“What are you talking about there is nothing between me and Mollymauk,” he says a little too quickly and frantically. “We simply formed a… _truce_ of sorts.”

He hates that such a simple word can make him flustered.

Nott nods slowly, giving him an understanding pat on the arm. “Whatever you say, Cay-Cay. Everyone grows and explores at their own pace. I love and accept you for who you are.”

Face reddening, Caleb mutters, “Ja, okay. Thank you, Nott. I just wanted to update you on the situation. I am glad you are accepting it so easily.”

“With everything that's happened in the last few weeks, I guess I've been desensitized to big reveals.” He's pretty sure she would react differently if she found out the full extent of his 'visit', but he’s not ready to face that just yet. “Does he want to work together now or what?”

He shakes his head, firmly keeping his attention on _this_ conversation. “Nein, he seems content with the status quo. I think he finds a bit of competition entertaining.”

Nott tilts her head. “He's a strange one, that Mollymauk.”

Caleb can't help but scoff a little at the understatement. “Ja, I cannot argue with that.”

“Did he tell you why he turned down the money?” she asks.

With a shrug, he answers honestly, “Ah, it did not occur to me to ask. Maybe next time.”

Seemingly content with his revelation, Nott returns to her work but not before perking up and turning around. “Here's a thought: if we all team up, would we be the 'Dirty Charming Ball-Eaters', the 'Charming Dirty Ball-Eaters', or 'Nonagon and the Dirty Ball-Eaters'?”

He blinks and wanders over to the kitchen for a glass of water. “…I don't know, Nott. They are all equally bad.”

“Yes, but which is the _worst_? I bet that's the one Jester would like the most—if it ever comes to that.” After another moment of thought, she asks, “What about 'Dirty Ball-Eating Nonagon'?”

Caleb chokes on his drink.

\--

Things settle down a bit after the High Richter fiasco with all of them agreeing to lay low until the heat dies off a little—especially the Ball-Eaters since it was Beau and her war mask that the beaten servant they found in the pantry described in detail to the authorities.

He spends his first few days reading his books and transcribing his spells while Nott fiddles with her alchemy set until the Ball-Eaters inevitably come by to drag them outside for some fresh air.

Despite his near-perfect memory, he has no idea how this arrangement came to be. And despite his reservations, he has no idea how they all suddenly got so _close_.

“You know, we have some money saved up, but it will not last if we dine out every meal,” Caleb points out even as he follows the group down the block.

Jester smiles, clearly seeing his protest for the meagre formality that it is. “It's not _every_ meal, Caleb. Besides, you two can go back to work anytime, you know?” Fjord sends her a look and she quickly adds, “Oh, but if you're worried about money, maybe we can stop another bar fight and get our meal on the house again!”

Beau perks up. “What if we _start_ a bar fight and then stop it?”

“I think that'd be a sure way to get ourselves banned from Molly's,” Fjord points out.

Nott instinctively turns to him while Caleb resolutely ignores the way his heart skips a beat at the name.

\--

Upon entering the tavern, he can already feel himself wanting to leave and hide somewhere when both Molly and Yasha immediately hone in on him, which is then followed by Nott and Beau’s curious stares. He supposes he should consider himself fortunate that Ornna isn't there having left under her knowing eye last time.

Luckily, before anyone can comment, Jester breaks through the tension with a happy wave. “Molly! A table for all of us, please! Your very best one!”

Molly, on his part, smiles and steps out from behind the counter and rubs his chin as if deep in thought. “You know what, Jester? I think I have the perfect table for you. I mean, your friends are invited too, of course, but it's perfect for you specifically.”

She beams and loops an arm around his. “Thank you! I expected nothing less!” And the two walk away, happily chattering in Infernal and Caleb quickly squelches the idea of casting Comprehend Languages to sate his curiosity.

It's easy enough to pretend nothing's changed with the idle banter they have going back and forth, mostly Beau complaining about her boredom and Nott and Jester helpfully suggesting alternative activities for her to do.

Holding a worn out novel to her chest, Jester asks, “Have you read _Tusk Love_? It's _really_ good!”

“Yeah, we read it together, Jes,” Beau points out. “We read it out loud to Fjord too, remember?”

Fjord makes a face that expresses exactly what he thought about the experience.

“Oh yeah! Nott, have _you_ read it?”

Nott blinks. “No, but I thought we were helping _Beau_ think of ways to kill time?”

Jester shrugs. “Yes, but you _have_ to read it! It’s _so_ good! You too, Caleb!”

He arches a brow, blinking just as owlishly. “Ja? Okay? If you so strongly recommend it, I will put it on my list.”

“Hey, why are you giving _them_ things to do?” Beau complains. “ _I'm_ the one who's bored here!”

Eventually, Yasha and Molly wander over after other staff members take over their place at the bar. “I can think of _all sorts_ of things you can do to kill time.”

Beau scowls. “Fuck you, Molly.”

He snickers. “That wasn't one of them, unfortunately for you.”

She makes a face. “Gross, dude. Say, isn't the Harvest Close Festival coming up? Is it soon or will I be free by then?”

Jester perks up. “Oh! It's in a couple weeks! Molly, Yasha, do you want to come with us?”

“I don't see why not. Are all of you going?” Molly asks curiously, his voice the perfect imitation of casual nonchalance.

Fjord shrugs and glances around the table. “The three of us plan on it. I can't speak for Caleb and Nott, but everyone's welcome to join.”

“Yes!” Nott interjects before he can utter the first excuse that pops into his mind. “Yes, we are! Me _and_ Caleb! We'll be there!”

Beaming at the news, Jester claps her hands. “Great! We can all go together! Will you two have the whole day off?”

Molly and Yasha exchange glances, communicating in their wordless way, before the woman answers, “We might not be able to join you until later in the day, but we'll make it work. We’ll be there.” Then she looks over at Caleb and asks, “Hey, you're a wizard, right?”

Caleb blinks and swallows hard. “Ja?”

“Can you detect if something is magical? Or maybe just figure out what an item is?” she asks.

He nods. “I can do both of those things. It might take me a while to do it as a ritual, but I have everything I need on me if it is urgent.”

Yasha nods back and looks over to her friend. “Molly, maybe you should show him that thing.”

To his credit, whatever surprise Molly may have felt, he hides it with a grin. “That's an _excellent_ idea, dear. Who knows when we'll get such a capable wizard in here next? Mister Caleb, if I could borrow you for a little while?”

Eyes wide, he automatically gets to his feet. “Um, ja, of course. Nott, watch Frumpkin for me, please.”

\--

“I didn't think you'd be back so soon,” Molly whispers, the laughter loud and clear in his voice.

“Honestly, that makes two of us,” Caleb mutters, trying not to knock over anything in the backroom as they tumble about, hands roaming and stealing kisses from one another.

This situation feels just as ridiculous, just as exciting now with another grown man as it did back when he was a teenager. He remembers holding back his snickering in the storage room, trying to stay quiet—but, no, that was in the past.

That was a whole lifetime ago.

A light huff and a kiss on the forehead pulls him back to the present. “Don't think too hard on it, dear. Trust me when I say I'm not complaining.”

“Did you put Yasha up to it? What she did back there?” he asks in between kisses.

Throwing his head back and laughing out loud this time, Molly tells him, “No. But that's why she's the Charm.”

Everything about this screams ' _bad idea_ ' but with that clever mouth on his, he finds himself caring less and less.

Pulling back for a moment to stop a crate of fruits from falling over, Molly mutters, “Bo will kill me if we ruin his fruits.”

The sentence is so ridiculous Caleb can't help but chuckle. “I have watched you dismember people with your swords, Mollymauk.”

“And I've seen Bo do it with his bare hands. It's quite a show. Maybe you'll get to see it someday if you come visit me more often.” Then the tiefling smiles and leans forward, lips just barely grazing his neck. “Never mind that, though. Say my name again.”

“ _Make me_.”

Heated crimson eyes glance up at him. “Oh, _Caleb_ , you know I can't resist a challenge like that.”

\--

“You were gone for a while,” Nott whispers when he finally returns to the table. “Everything alright?”

Caleb swallows hard and nods, his face still feeling flushed. “Ja, just fine. I needed to cast more than one spell. Sorry for the wait.”

Without time to properly straighten himself out, he had no choice but to cast a disguise spell as he left the backroom.

Molly emerges a few minutes after, looking no worse for wear and Caleb can't help but be impressed because the tiefling definitely looked less than put together a little while ago. He saunters over and wraps an arm around Yasha's shoulders and his tail around her waist as she nods at him and downs her ale. “The items weren't magical but the experience certainly was,” he says with a wink.

“Right. The only magical thing there was you, Mollymauk,” he mutters back, ignoring the pleased grin Molly sends him.

Jester turns to him, her eyes sparkling, and he's already dreading whatever's about to come out of her mouth. “Cay-leb, are you and Molly…”

If it weren't for the spell, he's certain his face would be beet red— _is_ beet red underneath all the magic. “Nein! No, there is nothing between us. It is not like that—”

“Not yet,” Molly interjects with an even larger grin than before. “I'm still trying to get him to say hello to me.”

Caleb huffs. “I still have not been given any reason to.”

Arching a brow, Molly leans in towards him. “I suppose that means I'll just have to keep bothering you for one then.”

“Shame.”

Suddenly, there are four pairs of eyes on him and he turns away, resolutely refusing to acknowledge any of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yasha is part barbarian and part wing-man
> 
> Bonus Scenes:
> 
> 1) Alternate Conclusion to the Confrontation:
> 
> Realization lights up in those crimson eyes, but Molly doesn't seem fazed by the news. If anything, his grin widens. “Such a bold statement. Are you sure though?” 
> 
> Caleb blinks. “What? Of course I am, I—”
> 
> His words die off as Molly carefully runs his tongue over sharpened teeth. “Such _conviction_ , Mister Caleb…would you care to put this theory of yours to the test?”
> 
> Swallowing hard, he tears his gaze away from Molly's mouth. “You want me to…?”
> 
> “Make sure. You know, _just in case_.”
> 
> 2) Caleb's Walk of Shame:
> 
> Leaving the tavern, he resolutely keeps his head down as he trudges towards the door. The only thing in his favour is that he's been up there for long enough that all of the previous patrons have since left the establishment.
> 
> “Hey, you there,” he hears.
> 
> Caleb glances up to see Ornna behind the bar, looking far too amused and _knowing_. “Guess you cut to the front of Molly's line after all, huh?”
> 
> Face heating up, he speeds up and all but dashes out.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disaster solidarity and more

“Remind me again why I am here with you, Beauregard,” he mutters as Frumpkin curls around his neck and settles there comfortably.

Earlier, Beau had shown at the apartment as he was halfway through his book and more or less physically dragged him out. And now, they’re walking down the street towards _somewhere_ , just the two of them.

She glances over and frowns. “Because I’ve been cooped up in a library for the last week and it’s actively killing me.”

Caleb arches a brow. “That sounds like a dream come true.”

“It _would_ to you,” Beau retorts with an eye-roll, wincing when she agitates her black eye.

He gestures to his own eye. “Did you get beaten up by the librarians there?”

Shooting him an unimpressed look, she laughs sarcastically. “Yeah, by a bunch of crazy skilled fighting library monks. Those late-return fees are nothing to joke about, man.”

Caleb narrows his eyes slightly. She’s being sarcastic but he’s not convinced it’s a lie. “You did not answer my earlier question. Why am I here, Beauregard,” he asks instead.

The woman crosses her arms. “Because Jester and Nott are out detective-ing? Detecting? Whatever. Did you see them doing their intro? That was fucking adorable.” She waves it off and returns to the topic at hand. “I’d normally have Fjord with me for this kind of thing, but he ate something real bad last night and he’s been puking all morning. Don’t know what it was, but it smelled briny as shit.”

He winces in sympathy for Fjord and can only wait to hear about what kind of ‘case’ the other two ‘crack’ this time, but he insists, “This is not something you can do on your own?”

Instead of answering, Beau says, “I’ll give you access to the Cobalt Soul library.”

Caleb’s head snaps up with a jerk, all earlier thoughts dashed. “What?”

“I’ll be your escort for a day. Nott mentioned you were interested in checking it out,” she offers.

“How about a week?” he immediately counters.

She scowls. “Hell no, dude! Didn’t you hear me earlier? I’ve already been in there for _too long_! Three days. Final offer.”

Not willing to push his luck with her, he nods. “Deal.” They shake on it. “So where are we going?”

Beau shrugs, trying to come off as casual but he can see the tension in her shoulders. “Just Molly’s.”

And suddenly he’s tense too but probably for a different reason, more a coil of anticipation rather than trepidation. “You need me to come to a tavern with you?”

“Molly said he’d teach me how to run the bar and maybe let me work for a few hours to kill time. It’s been _so_ boring not being able to work,” she says. “I just need you to hang around so I’m not stuck with that maniac.”

“You should not have taken up the offer if you are so against the idea,” he helpfully points out.

Beau frowns. “Shut up or I’ll cut it down to two days, Caleb. Don’t test me.”

He obediently closes his mouth and walks.

\--

Arriving at Fletching and Moondrop’s, they’re greeted by Yasha standing impassively at the door and Beau immediately freezes up.

Seemingly not noticing, the taller woman nods her greetings. “Hello, Beau. Nice shiner. Caleb, are you here to learn too?”

He shakes his head. “Nein, I am just here to keep Beauregard company though I would not mind maybe learning a few things.”

Yasha nods. “I’ll let Molly know you’re here. He’s just in the kitchen eating.”

Once she’s gone, Caleb quickly elbows Beau to snap her from her stupor. “Is this how the next few hours are going to go?”

Beau shakes her head and slaps her face a few times. Scoffing, she waves him off. “Whatever, dude, I’m just not used to being here without the others. It’s not like you’re any better around Molly.”

“I do not know what you are talking about,” he reflexively replies, cheeks heating up.

“Sure,” she retorts. “I’m not the guy who refuses to say hi just to keep Molly flirting with him.”

Quickly turning the tables back on her, he points out, “Ja, well, Yasha seemed impressed by your ‘shiner’.”

Her face immediately changes to one of interest. “Yeah? You think she liked it?”

Suddenly Yasha and Molly emerge from the back. Sauntering over with Yasha looming behind him, the tiefling grins. “Well, if it isn’t my assistant for the day! We’re going to have fun, the two of us, though mostly me—and I guess Caleb and his cat can watch too.”

Chuckling quietly, Yasha leans down and says, “Go easy on her, Mollymauk.”

Molly seems to consider her words for a moment before shrugging. “Fine, but only because she brought me such a… _nice_ gift.”

Caleb freezes up when the tiefling winks at him and quickly exchanges glances with Beau, who’s not faring any better.

It’s going to be a long day.

\--

“…I guess the good thing about being behind the bar is that you don’t actually need to smile,” Molly says. His head is tilted curiously as if this wasn’t a problem he expected to encounter.

Caleb doesn’t hide behind his tankard and stare.

The tavern is mostly empty with it still being early in the day. The few patrons there seem either intent on drinking themselves under or straggled in for a late breakfast.

Beau drops her ‘smile’ with an audible sigh. “Thank the gods.”

“I mean, it’s good for the tips but I guess you don’t _need_ to. If anything, you might scare people away with yours,” Molly continues, a teasing grin creeping onto his lips.

She scoffs. “The tips can’t be _that_ good. Your smile does nothing for me.”

Raising a hand to his heart, the tiefling gasps. “How _dare_ you! I’ll have you know that my smile is plenty charming, isn’t that right, Mister Caleb?”

He blinks and pretends to look up from his book with a shrug. “It's alright, I suppose.”

“Just alright? Heathens, the both of you! Yasha, _you_ like my smile, right?” Molly whines, draping himself dramatically over the counter as the woman returns to the bar with an empty tray.

Yasha nods and smiles softly. “You have a beautiful smile, Mollymauk.”

Beau immediately turns and stares at him in disbelief while he pointedly turns back to his book and scritches Frumpkin behind the ear for effect.

Tail flickering happily, Molly beams. “Your smile is my favourite too, dear.”

Caleb _doesn’t_ subtly sneak a glance up.

\--

“That did not go so badly,” he tries with an awkward pat on the shoulder. Although they’ve all gotten closer since meeting, comforting Beauregard is still a mystery to him.

Beau groans. “Because all you did was sit there and flirt with Molly.”

Caleb frowns. “That is decidedly not true. I spent my time reading.”

Arching a brow, she crosses her arms and asks, “Is that _‘decidedly’_ right? How many pages did you get through there, Caleb?”

“Many.”

“Yeah? That’s funny, ‘cause I think I only saw you turning the page once, _and_ you answered all of our questions. Last time I came over, I don’t think you even noticed us because you were too busy reading.”

Observant.

Too observant.

He makes a note to keep his guard up around this one.

“Well, you asked me to keep you company so it would have been rude to not pay any attention,” he tries.

Beau nods slowly. “Yeah, sure, I appreciate it and all, dude, but that was definitely not it. It was like you couldn’t focus because— _holy shit, are you sleeping with Molly_!?”

Caleb’s eyes widen and he gestures for her to lower her voice before hissing, “Nein—what? No! _No_. No. Beauregard, no. _No_.”

“Oh, fuck! You _are_! I mean, I won’t tell the others, but _damn_ , Widogast. I am impressed.” She runs a hand through her hair, trying to gather her thoughts. “Wait, are you two just, _you know_ , or are you like, _together_?”

“No, I just said—this is a ridiculous conversation and I refuse to have it. You owe me three days in the Cobalt Soul, Beauregard,” he mutters quickly and takes off.

“Wow, Caleb!” she calls after him. “ _Wow!_ ”

The problem with having friends, he decides, is having to care about them and accompany them to places at their request despite all reservations.

The problem with having friends who are bored is that they get nosy.

And the problem with having friends who are bored _contract killers_ is that they get _really_ nosy and they’re _really_ good at it.

\--

“Dirty Drifter, I’ve got the target in my sights. You can reply to this message.”

It feels good to be back out in the field, especially after that last outing with Beauregard—even if it _did_ get him three days to spend at the Cobalt Soul. Standing around the corner, Caleb looks down both ends of the hall and replies, “Understood. I do not see any guards so feel free to take the shot.”

Silently backtracking down the hall towards Nott, he hears a yelp and a groan and runs over to look over the rail. Their target is standing in the middle of the main hall with three blades protruding from their torso, and in the corner, hidden behind a shelf, Nott is staring wide-eyed at the scene.

The blades retract and the half-orc slumps over.

Dead.

As the target falls, with the help of his transmuter’s stone, Caleb sees two familiar figures, cloaked and masked. The smaller one raises a hand and waggles their fingers at him in a jaunty wave.

He makes his way down the stairs to rejoin Nott as the two claim the proof of kill off the body. “You know, since we’re all on the same page, this would be a lot less work if we just teamed up,” she mutters.

Molly and Yasha exchange glances as they wont to do and turn back to them with identical shrugs. “Nah, we’re good for now. Thanks.”

Without anything else of value in the building, Caleb claps Nott on the shoulder and shakes his head. “We should go, Goblina. There is nothing for us here.”

As they pass by the other pair, Molly leans in and whispers, “Looks like it’s my win.”

A shudder runs down his back and he continues walking.

\--

“Mister Mollymauk, I hope you realize we are both expected at the festival tomorrow.”

“Yes, and I’m still trying to decide on a prize,” Molly replies lightly, pausing in his ministrations to lift his head. “Say, are you Dirty Drifter now? You keep changing it.”

Looking down, his fingers still loosely tangled in the tiefling’s hair, he shrugs. “Ja, and sometimes Philip.” That earns him a laugh. “This does not change our obligations tomorrow.”

“Well, unlike you, I’m not expected until later in the day,” Molly counters. “Don’t worry though, I won’t keep you. I mean, you can go whenever you want.”

Caleb arches a brow. “You are literally sitting on me.”

The tiefling smiles and sits up a little straighter, drawing a sharp inhale from both of them. “Do you want me to get off then?”

He doesn’t answer.

A soft breathy laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

\--

By the time the festival begins, the Ball-Eaters have already come by and dragged them out for an early breakfast with Caduceus, all while discussing how they’ll be spending their money now that their coffers have been refilled with their latest job. Their breakfast is a simple affair, full of foods Caleb has never been able to identify and never felt the need to question.

After helping clean up, they proceed to bring the firbolg from his mini sanctuary to the festival. The streets are loud and colourful, decorated with banners and streamers. Musicians and bards fill every block with songs while wine and ale vendors supply the cheer.

The six of them wander about, scoping out the vendors and activities until Caleb helpfully announces the time. Jester squeals happily and takes off with Nott towards Fletching and Moondrop’s. Beau shoots him a sly grin and elbows him in his ribs. With a grunt, he elbows her back.

The two of them continue their antics until Fjord clears his throat and tells Beau to stop bothering him. Embarrassed at being caught doing something so childish, he dips his head and falls back to walk with Caduceus instead.

The firbolg merely smiles at him. “It’s a beautiful day for a festival. It’s nice that everybody’s so festive.”

Caleb nods and reaches up to pet his cat around his neck. “Ja, it certainly is. Have you been to a Harvest Close Festival before, Herr Clay?”

“No, this will be my first. This is very exciting.”

“Given our present company, I am sure you will have your fill of excitement,” he replies. “If anything, you may get too much of it.”

\--

When they reach Fletching and Moondrop’s, Molly and Yasha are already waiting outside for them. The two stop chatting as Jester runs up to them with flailing gestures.

After a quick round of greetings, Yasha easily joins their main group, exchanging pleasantries with Caduceus and Fjord while Molly is pulled along by Jester, their tails curling around each other like a pair of cats as they exchange mischievous grins.

The first game they stop at is a simple trebuchet game. Nott steps up and plays a round, disguised as a human child. She doesn’t do very well, but the soldier manning the booth gives her a little hay doll as a consolation prize, which she tucks away with care. After her, Fjord gives it a go and fails spectacularly, earning himself a bout of merciless teasing from the rest of the group.

“I can hit things when it counts,” he grumbles. “I don’t see any of you doing better.”

“I’ll give it a go,” Molly announces, putting five coppers down. “If I get it in, you’re paying for my next drink, Fjord.”

Fjord nods. “You’re on, Tealeaf.”

He tosses the sandbag over his head and they watch it land cleanly in the basket. With a satisfied grin, Molly takes a theatrical bow and gives the rest of his turns to Jester and Beau, who both miss.

The soldier manning the booth does his best to comfort the women and hands Molly a strawberry. “Congratulations. Here’s your prize, ma’am…sir?”

“Whatever works, dear,” the tiefling replies easily, popping the fruit into his mouth without hesitation, stem at all. Licking his lips, Molly turns back to the group and grins. “To the next game then, or should we stop somewhere for me to claim my drink?”

They stop at a shell game next where Caleb easily collects a couple of gold pieces before taking pity on the woman running the game and stops. He goes across the street to watch Jester and Yasha both destroy the game of strength while Nott and Molly bicker over the best type of people to steal from, occasionally outright pointing at people passing by to use as examples.

Continuing down and pausing at a mead stand to take a break, Jester and Caduceus decide to take off for the candied fruit stand while Molly suddenly perks up and runs off. He watches as the tiefling stops a little girl carrying a basket of flowers too large for her and pays her a gold piece and brings the entire basket back. Dropping it on their standing table, he wraps his tail around Yasha’s leg excitedly. “Look, aren’t these gorgeous?”

Yasha’s eyes light up as she eyes the basket. “They’re very pretty, Molly.”

“Go on, dear,” he encourages, “you get first dibs.”

Caleb watches as she picks out a couple and carefully presses them into a thick book she keeps in her pack. Then placing a kiss on Molly’s horn, she smiles. “Thank you. Would you like me to braid some into your hair?”

Before he can answer, there’s a shriek and Jester comes running back, nearly dropping her latest acquisitions. She and Molly exchange long strings of Infernal before coming to an agreement and turning to the rest of the group with matching grins.

Their basket of flowers doesn’t last very long. Three drinks in, the basket has been emptied and thrown at some rude passerby and all eight of them have flowers in or on their hair in some manner or another.

Emptying his cup, Molly leans forward and coos at him, “You look very dashing, Mister Caleb.”

He arches a brow. “Speak for yourself, Mister Mollymauk.” Nott managed to braid a couple of smaller flowers into his hair, but it’s hardly comparable to the wreath of flowers sitting on Mollymauk’s head and the blooms sticking out of his hair and tucked behind his ears.

It must be all the mead he’s drank because without thinking, he reaches down and picks up a fallen flower and tucks it behind Molly’s horn.

Crimson eyes widen slightly at the gesture and he’s about to pull back when a hand catches his arms. “Um…” Behind them, a group of musicians apparently decided to stop at that particular intersection and start playing. Molly smiles, bright and dazzling. “Dance with me, Caleb.”

“What?”

Pulling him away from the table, Molly repeats, “Dance with me. That’s my prize. I’ve decided and I’m going to collect.”

How ridiculous they are, competing to kill and then rewarding the assassination of a person with a dance.

“I am afraid I am not familiar with this song or dance,” Caleb mutters, even as he allows himself to be dragged away.

Molly huffs and probably rolls his eyes though it’s hard to tell. “It’s dancing! And we’re all a little drunk, Caleb! Just do what feels right!”

Next to them, Jester has also pulled Fjord into the fray and grins at them. He watches her twirl the half-orc around before deciding to let the mead dictate his actions. Wrapping his hands around Molly’s waist, he asks, “Is this alright?”

Molly pulls him a little closer. “It’s _perfect_.”

\--

The rest of the festival goes by in a blur as the alcohol courses through his system and he wakes to a pounding headache the next morning—no, afternoon. He groans and turns to look around his room only to find Frumpkin asleep on his chest, Nott and Molly curled up on either side of him, and a large Platinum Dragon tapestry and Molly’s coat draped over the three of them instead of a blanket.

Outside the room, he can hear the sound of tinkering in the kitchen, which probably means Caduceus is up and preparing breakfast and tea for them.

Closing his eyes, he quickly scans his memories to figure out how this came to be. There were more drinks and at some point, he pretended to be Nott’s father while she put on her best Zemnian accent, and then he was kissing Mollymauk in a back alley. Later into the night, Beau complained about being tired and Yasha was piggybacking Jester and then there was a collective (and drunk) agreement that their tiny apartment was the best option.

There’s a quiet noise of protest and Molly opens his eyes sleepily and all Caleb can do is watch as he scrunches his face up unhappily at the brightness of the room. Then he looks up and notices Caleb and smiles a little uncertainly. “Good morning, Mister Caleb.”

“Afternoon, actually,” he says back reflectively, keeping his voice low so as to not wake Nott up.

“That was quite the festival. The parts I remember anyway.”

Caleb turns onto his side to face the tiefling. “Ja? Do you remember purchasing this tapestry?”

A nod. “I don’t care what you all say, it was an excellent investment—as currently demonstrated.”

“What about the pie? You kept shouting for pie until someone brought their stand over to us and then you threw yours at the angry man. Do you remember that?” he asks.

Molly snickers. “I do remember that, actually. Shame. He deserved it, but what a waste of a great pie.”

“Good enough to pay gold for it?”

An easy shrug. “I would’ve done that anyway. It’s hard work, making pies. Probably.”

He remembers his mother in their modest kitchen, making his favourite pie for his journey back to Rexxentrum. Everyone had been so impressed by it, had praised it and gobbled it up with no reservation, but that wasn’t enough…

Caleb forces the memories back and reaches out and untangles a strand of hair from the jewellery dangling from the tiefling’s horn. “You still have flowers in your hair.”

Molly smiles. “So do you. It’s a good look.”

“I am a killer.”

“Aren’t we all? Just because we kill for a living doesn’t mean we shouldn’t put flowers in our hair,” Molly points out as if it’s the most rational thing in the world.

“You are ridiculous, Mollymauk,” he mutters, though he doesn’t try to hide the smile on his lips. Something akin to warmth bubbles up in his chest and he forcefully pushes it back down.

“One of the best things to be, I say,” Molly replies lightly before leaning up for a quick kiss.

Chasing the other back down, he manages to land another kiss when the tiefling suddenly pulls back, his eyes wide. “Wha—”

“Good morning, Nott.”

Caleb gives a start and turns around to find Nott sitting up and staring at them, looking equally horrified at the turn of events. “…ja, guten Morgen, Nott.”

She turns to him and he feels every bit the teenager caught being indecent in his room. “You know what,” she starts slowly, “I’m _very_ hungover and don’t mind this enough to do anything about it. Molly threw a pie on my behalf yesterday so I’ll give him a pass. And Caleb, I love you no matter what. Just, don’t give me any details. Now, if you will excuse me, I smell breakfast.”

And with that, she drags herself out of bed and out the door for food.

Caleb groans and pulls Frumpkin over his face, earning him an indignant meow in response.

Next to him, Molly lets out a soft laugh and rolls onto him. “So, Mother and Child, huh?”

“That was not what we had in mind when we came up with the name,” he mutters back.

Grinning, Molly places a kiss on his chin. “On the brighter note, it sounds like that pie saved me a stern talking to.”

He rolls his eyes. “What a horrible fate you have escaped from.”

Crimson eyes blink at him. “Did you just make a joke?”

“Nein, I would never,” Caleb murmurs, reaching out and tilting the tiefling’s head up for a proper kiss. “Come here, Mollymauk.”

After a few more minutes of idle kisses, Molly leans down and gives him one final kiss before getting crawling off of him and the bed with the tapestry draped around him like a cape. “C’mon, I think the others are starting to wake up. Let’s go eat before Beau feeds our breakfast to her pockets.”

\--

The only good thing that comes out of the horrifying revelation between him and Nott is that he no longer needs to make up excuses for his absence. Despite that, it doesn’t get any less awkward whenever he has to take his leave.

After a while, he can’t even convince himself that it’s to keep an eye on his competition anymore. But nevertheless, he finds himself back ascending the same set of stairs at the back of Fletching and Moondrop’s time and again.

“Caleb, have you done any jobs lately?” Molly asks one night. He’s sitting on his bed without his usual smile. His eyes are dark and serious and Caleb can’t help the shiver that runs down his back.

It’s storming outside, an ugly mix of snow and rain that’s leaving the streets muddy and wet. Thunder rumbles in the distance and although they’ve never spoken about it, Caleb suspects that Yasha’s gone off on one of her trips.

Leaning against the far wall, he arches a brow. They’d done a job about a week ago with the Ball-Eaters taking out a person in the Silken Terrace, and he and Nott took out a rather unsavory figure on the outskirts of town the week before that. “Yes, just a week ago, why?”

Molly shrugs off his coat gingerly and lets it pool on the bed around him. “Did you notice anything strange? Strange people maybe?”

He shakes his head. The strangest people there were the Ball-Eaters, though they could probably say the same thing about him. “Nein, did something happen?”

Studying him, the tiefling gestures to his shirt and asks instead, “Help me with this, would you?”

Caleb walks over and gently helps him out of his shirt only to reveal bloodied bandages wrapped around his shoulder and upper torso. His eyes widen. He’s seen Molly injured before, it’s just hazards of their job, but never this severe.

Letting out a sigh, Molly starts unwrapping the bandages, wincing when he unpeels the bloodied cloth from his skin. “Thanks. You don’t have to stick around, Caleb. I don’t think I can do very much like this.”

“At least let me help you rewrap those,” he says, surprising the both of them. While they haven’t spoken about the exact nature of their relationship, it feels wrong to leave like this. A little sheepishly, he adds, “Nott is not expecting me back anyway.”

Crimson eyes blink slowly, still looking hesitant or perhaps disbelieving at his offer, and somehow, it’s this reaction that puts Caleb more at ease than anything else they’ve done so far. “…if you wouldn’t mind.”

Picking up a fresh set of bandages and salve from a nearby shelf, Caleb says, “I am no healer, but I have some practice with dressing wounds.”

With his help, Molly unpeels the rest of the bandages, revealing angry cuts in his shoulder and side. Looking down at the wound on his ribs, he frowns. “Mean motherfucker, that one.”

“Why didn’t you go see Herr Clay or some other cleric?” he asks, catching himself before he could volunteer Jester.

A wry smile. “We did. This is already better than before. Yasha needed to leave on her trip, so I made her go first. I’ll go back for another visit tomorrow.”

Brows furrowing, he wants to ask about her frequent absences but knows the question will only be deflected. Instead, Caleb studies the injury and asks, “Yasha was hurt too? And these were guards the target hired?”

Molly shakes his head, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t think so. If they were then maybe we’ve become too predictable. We’ll have to change up our target profile.”

“So this is not the first time?” he presses with more urgency.

“I can’t be sure but we met some resistance on our last job too but it’s not like they were in uniform or introduced themselves or anything,” Molly tells him.

Still frowning, he runs his eyes over the gashes. “Would our employer know anything about these people who attacked you?”

A shrug. “Maybe. I haven’t asked. I’m not too fond of visiting that place.”

He glances up to see Molly’s tail twitch in agitation. It’s the same discomfort Nott exudes when she’s near water, and he imagines he’s much the same way around fire. But Mollymauk, he hadn’t expected such a reaction from him, and once again, he’s reminded of how little he actually knows about the tiefling.

As though sensing his thoughts, the tiefling smiles and gives an offhanded wave with his uninjured hand. “Don’t let it trouble you, darling. I’m sure it’ll blow over by the time Yasha gets back. I’ll be laying low until then anyway.”

Caleb frowns, unconvinced by the levity in the other’s voice. “Let’s hope it _is_ something so simple, Mollymauk. You may want to bite down on something. I need to disinfect your wounds.”

Molly lets out a weak laugh. “You always say the sweetest things.”

\--

The event nags at him, but he doesn’t get any more information from Molly, who seems set on returning to some sense of normalcy. It’s only pushed further back when Yasha returns a week later and the two go about their jobs at the tavern as usual.

Caleb mentions the incident to Nott, but failing to notice anything out of ordinary on their own jobs, he wonders if Molly really was right to simply let things be.

Then they get an urgent knock on their door in the middle of the night.

Leaping to his feet, he readies a spell in his hand while Nott lingers back and loads her crossbow. Opening the door, the spell immediately fizzles out when Beau and Molly pour into the apartment, both looking battered and panicked.

“Caleb, Nott, they got them! They got the others!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus Scene (Jester and Nott's Detective Intro):
> 
> Standing side by side, the two grin in anticipation as their friends watch on. "Are you ready for this? This is going to blow your minds away, you guys!" Jester tells them. "Okay, let's do this! Nott"
> 
> Cocking her crossbow, Nott nods. "I'm Nott the best detective!"
> 
> "Technically, there's no comma, technically," Jester quickly adds.
> 
> "And Jester to the right!" Nott continues, gesturing to the tiefling to her side. "And together, we're Nott the Best Detective Agency!"
> 
> Beau immediately starts clapping.
> 
> Caleb and Fjord look on curiously. "Sorry, Jes, was that _you_ to the right or _gesture_ to the right?"
> 
> The two exchange happy grins and reply, "Yes."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, Widomauk Week was a ride. But let's get back to murders and assassins now! 
> 
> Also, for anyone worried about continuing, this isn't a death fic...except for all the NPCs I've killed and will continue to kill.

Closing the door behind them, Caleb watches the two collapse onto the floor, out of breath and still clutching onto each other.

Neither of them have their ridiculous masks on and Molly's cloak is nowhere in sight even though they're both dressed for work. He's circled back around in front of them when he notices Jester's haversack slung over Beau's shoulders and all at once, it hits him that something is very wrong. His mind immediately assumes the worst but, no, it wouldn't happen here.

 _They_ wouldn't do anything in Zadash.

"What happened!?" Nott shrieks, lowering her crossbow and running over to them, concern filling her voice. "Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did anyone follow you!?"

Startled from his stupor, he mentally scolds himself for getting so distracted by his thoughts. Reaching a hand out, he helps the two up and onto the couch to see them both pressing their hands down on various wounds. "Just wait, I will fetch a medical kit. We may need to pay Herr Clay a visit if your injuries are serious."

When he returns, Molly nods to Beau, who scowls back. "You're in worse shape than me, just go."

"Nott, can you help Beauregard?" Caleb asks, already moving Molly's hand out of the way to find a puncture wound in the tiefling's side, the arrow having long since been ripped back out. "What happened? Where are the others?"

Molly hisses when he peels the shirt away but holds himself with practiced stillness. "We were on a job and we got ambushed. There was a huge group of them."

"I counted at least seven," Beau adds, tilting her head to give Nott better access to her shoulder. "They got Jester and Fjord."

"And Yasha," Molly says with a dark frown on his lips. "They got my charm."

The two fall into a silent lull and Caleb frowns, his mind running over every suspect he can think of and ruling them out equally fast. "Did you know these people? How did you find each other?"

Beau lets out a wry huff. "We didn't. All we knew was Nonagon and the Charm were around and then suddenly a bunch of people attacked us. I had no idea it was you."

"We heard your voices, yours and Jester's," Molly tells her, his voice tight with pain. "Once we heard your voices, it was easy to figure out who you were."

"Yeah, I was still trying to fight them off when Molly suddenly grabbed me and ran. I didn't recognize any of those people," Beau says quietly, "did you?"

Leaning back and draping an arm over his eyes, Molly nods. "I did—a few of them at least. I didn't know them personally, but I think they were there for me and Yasha."

Nott and Beau turn to him while Caleb concentrates on the tying off the bandages. "What makes you say that?" Nott asks.

"They've been coming after us for about a month now," Molly admits. "I'm pretty sure it's the same group. I recognized some of them, the persistent bastards. We've always gotten away, but they've never come at us with so many before."

"What the fuck? What do they want with you two?" Beau demands. "And why'd they take Jester and Fjord if you were the target?"

Tail thrashing in agitation, Molly scowls and turns only to wince when he pulls on his side. "I don't know! I've been trying to figure this out for a month now! Yasha thinks there's money on our heads but it's not from anyone we know or we would’ve been told, okay?"

Fists balling up, Beau hisses, "Shit. We shouldn't have left them. We shouldn't have ran! Gods know what they're going to do to them!"

"And then what? We _all_ get captured?" Molly snaps back, his tail hitting the wall with a sharp snap. "Yasha…" He turns back to Caleb and takes a deep breath to explain, "The job was a small one on the outskirts of town. Me and Yasha thought it'd be safe. It was different from our usual jobs. The target was already down when they came. We were fighting and suddenly everything went quiet. It was disorienting and I didn't see the blast of ice. Yasha pushed me out of the way and told me to run. So I did. It was only by luck that I noticed Beau was still up and grabbed her too."

Glaring at her feet, Beau nods. "It went quiet for us too. Jes and Fjord couldn't cast any spells. They went down pretty quick after that. I...look, thanks for saving me. Now we need to go save the others."

"I still don't know who they are," Molly mutters, chewing on his thumb in thought. "I'll need to get some things from my room, tell Gustav, and—"

"The two of you are not going anywhere tonight," Caleb cuts in. "I know you are worried, but you are hurt and these bandages are not magic. They will not heal you overnight. Stay here where it is safe and we will pay Herr Clay a visit tomorrow and then go about gathering information and help."

Molly's tail twists and turns in silent protest.

A little more gently, he says, "There were five of you and that was not enough. We are now only four. We cannot risk stumbling into this blindly."

"Caleb's right," Nott adds. "You two aren't going to be any help to anyone like this. Besides, if you run around town looking for these guys, won't that just make you an easy target?"

Beau unclenches her fists and exhales through her nose. Her shoulders drop and she nods, though her jaw remains tight. "You're right. Okay, yeah. Let's heal up and get a plan together."

Glancing up, Molly looks over at him, his expression pensive but hopeful. "You said 'we're four' just now, Caleb. Does that mean you're helping us?"

It hadn't crossed his mind when he uttered the words. He blinks and turns to Nott who nods encouragingly back at him. "Ja, I suppose I am. We are all...friends, and I have grown surprisingly fond of this group." Quickly feeling too exposed, he turns around. "I will get you pillows and blankets. One of you can take my bed."

Molly and Beau exchange looks and shake their heads. "We're fine out here, man, thanks. We'll go see Deucy first thing in the morning."

Nott immediately scurries onto the couch next to Beau. "I'll sleep here too then and come with you in the morning! You can't stop me! I need to get my partner back! We still have cases to solve!" A little quieter, she mutters, "We're Nott the greatest detective and Jester to the right."

Beau softens as she tucks the goblin under her arm. "Yeah, you sure are. That sounds like a solid plan, detective."

Inside his room, Caleb rubs the back of his neck and gathers his bedding in his arms and brings it back out to their dingy little living room. Handing one end to Nott, he sits down on the other side next to Molly and carefully makes sure the four of them are adequately covered.

Within minutes, he hears Beau and Nott fast asleep. Still, he doesn't turn his head, his mind shouting at him to leave this be. This isn't his problem to solve, they're not people of consequence, not people who will further his goals—

Caleb gives a start when a tail wraps around his arm. Finally looking over, he sees Molly looking back, his eyes glimmering in the dim light. "You should go back to your room and get some rest if this is uncomfortable, especially with Beau's snoring," the tiefling says softly. "And you don't have to come, Caleb. I get it. I can explain it to them. This isn't your problem to fix."

He considers the out for a moment and shakes his head, gently running his thumb over the spade tip of Molly's tail. "Nein, I meant what I said," he replies, surprised at how true the words ring. "We will all go in the morning, Mollymauk, and we will go together."

\--

They're up at the crack of dawn and after a few minor adjustments to change up Beau and Molly's clothes, they take off for Caduceus' place.

The streets are mostly empty save for the occasional shopkeeper, readying their store for the day. A thin layer of snow blankets the city as the four of them keep their heads down and hoods up, silently trudging through the misty morning.

Caleb glances back at the pair. They haven't spoken more than a few words since this morning, their expressions solemn and contemplative. Gaze falling on Molly, the tiefling hardly looks like himself in his borrowed monochrome outfit and tattered cloak. It's all so dull and colourless, even the lavender of his skin seems paler surrounded by it.

The trip is silent until they reach a familiar gate and step inside. Nott bounds ahead to the back and when he turns the corner, he sees her speaking to the firbolg at the backdoor.

Caduceus turns and looks at the rest of them. His eyebrows raise in surprise, but his demeanor remains calm. "Oh dear, looks like there's been quite a situation, huh? Why don't you come over here and let me look at those wounds?" Leaning back, he calls out, "Miss Nila, would you mind boiling some water? I think we're all going to need some tea."

Caleb instinctively takes a step back when another firbolg emerges and nods. "Of course, Clay."

Nott quickly runs back to him and, in an exaggerated whisper, asks, "Another firbolg, Caleb! Do you think she knows Pumat Sol?"

Next to him, Beau snorts.

\--

The silence is palpable as the six of them sit around the floor with a cup of tea and a plate of simple breakfast foods in front of them. Beau picks at the food while Molly debriefs them, giving more details than he had the night before.

In turn, Nila's features darken. "It is them."

They all turn to her and Nott asks, "You know them, Nila?"

She shakes her head. "They are the ones who took my partner and child—my _tribe_. They came in the night and took them in darkness and silence. I do not know what they are called, only that they came to this city."

"They sound like slavers," Molly mutters quietly, running a hand through his hair. "Why would slavers be coming after _us_?"

Caleb frowns. "If Yasha was right about there being money on your heads, they may be trying to collect on your bounty on their way to their next drop off point."

Beau narrows her eyes, her hackles raised. "And what? Jester and Fjord were just collateral? A little extra coin on the side?"

"I do not know, Beauregard," he replies calmly. "I do not know who these people are, but they have clearly had their eye out for Mollymauk and Yasha for a while now. They seem to be the main targets because we have not encountered them before, or at least Nott and I have not, have you?"

She crosses her arms and leans back. "No. Fine, what's your point?"

Stifling a sigh, he focuses his gaze on his mostly untouched breakfast. "My point is that if they are here to collect bounties on those two, it is unlikely they will leave the city until they have the whole set."

Molly puts down his cup. "So, they're just waiting on me then."

He nods. "It would be good to find out what this bounty is first and then find out who is trying to claim it. Once we know who and why, we can find them and come up with a plan. We need more information and I think only one person will be able to help us on such short notice."

"The Gentleman." Pursing her lips, Beau grimaces. "Shit, I hate visiting that guy."

Sighing, Molly nods. "You and me both."

\--

The four of them set off after stomaching the rest of their meal at Caduceus' encouragement. It's mid-morning when they arrive at the Evening Nip. "We come with many gifts and all that," Beau mutters.

The barkeeper rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you don't have to say it every time. I know who you are. All four of you?"

Nott pushes her mask up a little more and nods. "It's urgent."

He waves her off. "Sure, whatever. Head on down."

They make their way into the tavern underneath to where the sound of constant merriment emanates. The tabaxi at the door perks up at the sight of them, a reaction Caleb's never seen before. "Lucien! You've returned! And you've changed back!"

Hiding his flinch at the remark, Molly forces a smile onto his face. "Hi Cree." The rest of them trade glances before turning back to him to watch the interaction play out. The tiefling quickly excuses himself, "Sorry, there's been a bit of a situation. Would it be possible to talk to the big man upstairs? It's quite urgent."

As if eager to please, Cree nods. "Yes, of course. He's upstairs, though he may be having breakfast. Go on in, please."

"Thank you, dear. We'll speak soon," Molly promises before making his way into the tavern.

Following after him, he opens his mouth but Beau beats him to the punch. "What was that about?" she hisses.

Molly glances back and slaps her on the shin with his tail. "That was about something I'd rather not discuss here. _Later_."

They reach the second floor overlooking the rest of the tavern. None of the other people there pay them any mind except the ogre, who eyes them warily, and, to their surprise, the Gentleman.

"Hello, friends," he greets them from his usual seat. "I was expecting to see you—" He glances over at Caleb and Nott with a curious look. "Some of you anyway."

Nodding, Molly says, "It sounds like you have a good idea what's going on here so maybe we can save each other a little time. They're all with me."

The Gentleman leans forward and rests his chin on his hands with an amused smile. "Straight to business then? How unlike you to be so dry."

Caleb silently places a hand on Nott's head to stop her from blurting out whatever comment she's thought of. Judging by the Gentleman's warning glance, he sensed it as well.

With a forced casual shrug, Molly says, "Things came up, appointments to keep, you know how it is."

"Indeed I do. I wouldn't normally indulge you like this, but you _are_ Gustav's precious protégé and something _has_ come up." The Gentleman holds up a hand and the goliath woman immediately passes him a scroll. "I have a new job here. It was recently requested by a very dear friend of mine. I think it would be... _mutually beneficial_ if you took care of it soon."

Taking the parchment, the tiefling eyes it for a moment before passing it back to Caleb. He blinks and accepts it. "And what about the bounty on your head?" he asks quietly.

Molly turns back to the Gentleman who spreads his hands and says, "Why don't you take care of our most immediate problem first, Nonagon? We can discuss the coin on your head if you and your friends return."

"You're not going to put this job on the subscription?" Beau asks.

"I'm hoping that won't be necessary if you do your part," the Gentleman says easily. "Now, if that is all, feel free to stay for a drink if you need time to discuss this job."

Caleb unrolls the parchment to see a sketch of a large bald man with cold hard eyes staring back. _Lorenzo of the Iron Shepherds._ Quickly memorizing the details, he holds it out for the others to look. At once, Beau and Molly snarl at the picture and turn back to their employer. "We'll take the job."

The Gentleman smiles. "That's what I wanted to hear."

\--

The four of them manage to slip back out onto the streets unhindered when Beau turns around and snaps, "So? What was that about back there, Molly—if that's even your name?"

Molly immediately shushes her and hisses, "Gods' sake, Beauregard, when I said 'later', I didn't mean out on the _bloody streets_!" He looks around. "C'mon, let's go to my place. I'll need that bag of yours anyway."

Beau glances over at him. "Are you really just going to trust him like that, Caleb?"

He shrugs. "I do not think we are in danger from him if that is what you are asking." Then more softly, he reminds her, "They took Yasha and he saved you. I do not know if trust is the right word, but I think we are on the same side—on this, at the very least."

Nott crosses her arms. "I have so many _questions_ though!"

"Yeah, you're not alone there," Beau mutters.

"I can still hear you, you know that, right?" Molly calls out.

"Fuck you, Molly!"

"Fuck you too!"

Somehow, that exchange seems to calm her down and she follows quietly for the rest of the way.

Inside Fletching and Moondrop's, the staff currently manning the tavern immediately rush forward at the sight of Molly. "You didn't come back last night, are you alright?"

"Where's Yasha?"

Emerging from his office, the lanky half-elf he's come to know as Gustav frowns and asks, "Mollymauk, what happened?"

Tail drooping, he gestures to the back. "Kitchen." Then turning back to them, he reaches into a pouch on his belt and pulls out his keys and tosses it over to Caleb. "You guys go up to my room. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Catching the keys, he nods and leads the other two up the stairs to the room at the back of the hallway, the situation too grim for him to feel self-conscious about showing Nott and Beau to Molly's room.

The women immediately begin snooping around the room before Beau turns around. "How are you so calm about this, dude?"

"About which part?" he asks wearily.

"About the guy you're sleeping with not being who he says he is?"

Caleb shrugs. "We are all killers here, Beauregard. Our jobs require secrecy. None of us are who we show to the world."

Beau frowns. "But he's _Molly_. I always thought he was just Molly from Molly's. Then suddenly I find out he's Nonagon and now 'Lucien'?"

"Well, he's Nonagon for sure. Caleb found that out a while ago," Nott mutters, prying a loose floorboard up to reveal a small chest.

"Nott, please don't. Let's wait for Mollymauk to get back and speak for himself," he says. "I do not like any of this any more than any of you, but if your intention is to get the others back, fighting among ourselves is not the way to do that."

Nott sulks and puts the floorboard back in place. "I wasn't going to _steal_ from him. Whether he's Molly or not, we agreed that it wasn't good to steal from happy people."

Beau lets out a frustrated groan and begins pacing. "I just want to know who I'm working with, okay? Like, how do we know if he's really Molly? Who even is Lucien? He said this isn't tied to him, how do we know if _that's_ not a lie?"

"You don't, but I want to make it perfectly clear that I am Mollymauk Tealeaf and no one else—well, except Nonagon on some occasions, and some reincarnated royalty from across the seas on others," Molly says, stepping into the room. "I don't know who Lucien is."

"That tabaxi seemed to know you as Lucien," Beau points out.

"A case of mistaken identity. I just have one of those faces," Molly mutters half-heartedly, clearly not wanting to speak on the subject. He shrugs off Caleb's old cloak and shirt and begins rummaging through his drawers for a set of his own clothes.

Beau glares. "A fucking _distinct_ face, you mean? Look, I don't personally care about your past, but I need to know who and what I'm working with and I need to know if this is connected to you somehow."

Pulling his usual white shirt over his head and holding his hands up in surrender, the tiefling concedes, "You're right. Alright. Like I said, my name is Mollymauk Tealeaf. I may have been Lucien once, but I am _not_ him, whoever he is or was."

"What does that even mean?" Beau shouts, tears pricking at her eyes from frustration. "Just fucking give me an answer! Are you Molly or Lucien or someone else entirely!? Are you even on our side!?"

"It means Gustav found me next to my own grave without anything two years ago, _Beau_. No name. No words. No memories. _Nothing_. I was _empty_ ," Molly snaps back. "Whoever this Lucien guy was, he's fucked off to the afterlife or wherever and I don't care. I have no interest in finding out about his life. Honestly, I couldn't give less of a fuck. This body is mine now and I. Am. _Molly_."

Still seething and bristling, he narrows his eyes at the three of them. "There, now you know. Are you happy? If that's not good enough for you then we can go after these people separately but I _will_ get Yasha back, with or without any of your help."

Beau stands her ground and glares, but whatever comment she has on the tip of her tongue seems to have died away with her anger.

The tension in the room is suffocating as the two standoff, glaring at one another. Eventually, Caleb clears his throat and steps forward. "This is neither the time nor place for this. Look, I, for one, believe in second starts, so I am satisfied, Mollymauk Tealeaf. For now."

Taking a deep breath, Molly turns to him and studies him for a long moment before nodding. "Thank you. If I thought any of this was relevant, I would've mentioned it already."

In a quiet voice, Nott asks, "What about your bounty?"

Shoulders sagging, the tiefling shakes his head and collects his coat off a nearby chair. "It's not me. It's not him. They're after Nonagon and the Charm."

"How do you know?" Beau asks, equally deflated. Her eyes are wet but she seems intent on not acknowledging it.

"Because they've only ever come after us when we had our masks on," Molly answers, looking more worn out than Caleb's ever seen him. "If they were after me or Yasha, they would've come storming in here already. We're not exactly a well-kept secret. Now, are we done with the interrogation?"

Beau nods, quickly looking away and scrubbing her eyes. "Sorry. I'm sorry, Molly. This is all just a lot, and I...for what it's worth, I think I actually like you more now."

Molly shrugs and slips his coat back on, bedecked in colours once more and finally looking a little more like himself. "It'll be worth more when we get our people back. Are you with me then?"

The three of them nod.

"Great. Give me Jester's bag. I have an idea," he says, pulling open a drawer and emptying it to reveal a false bottom. As he rummages through, he mentions offhandedly, "If you'd opened that chest under the floorboards, you would've been in for a surprise, Nott."

Nott blinks. "Why? What's in it?"

Without looking up, Molly smiles wryly, though the humour doesn't reach his eyes. "Only the most decadent small clothes in the city of Zadash. I have traps set for nosy twins and the occasion goblin."

Both Nott and Beau immediately take a step back and give him wide berth to continue carrying out his prep in silence.

\--

Eventually, Beau leaves with Nott to find an acquaintance who could help in their fight—though not before the goblin sends a few words of encouragement to him from down the hall. Left alone, Caleb leans against the far wall and watches the tiefling putter about the room, occasionally tossing an item into the bag that was left behind.

He hasn't quite sort out his thoughts on how he feels about the earlier revelations yet. Although he’s certainly curious about the strange circumstances of Molly’s life, none of it bothered him as much as it did the others. As far as he's concerned, Mollymauk is Mollymauk, and whether it was a mistake or not, second chances are second chances.

 _Are they, though?_ a voice creeps into his thoughts.

"Are you alright, Mollymauk?" he asks quietly.

Pausing for a moment, Molly shrugs. "Probably not."

Watching the other man now, with his tail still twitching with agitation, he clearly didn't come out of this unscathed in more ways than one.

Caleb nods. "Ja, that is fair." Rubbing the back of his neck, he says with more confidence than he feels, "We will get them back. Yasha and Jester and Fjord and everyone else they took. You know that, right?"

Finally stopping and looking up at him, Molly dips his head, the resolve in his voice wavering. "Yeah, I know. We _have_ to. There's no other acceptable option, Caleb."

He firmly keeps his hands crossed to stop himself from reaching out and carding his fingers through the tiefling's tousled hair. "We will succeed, Mollymauk," he says again instead. "We will succeed and we will get our friends back."

Closing the bag and tossing it onto the bed, Molly walks over and carefully rests his head against his shoulder and nods. "Somehow, it's a little easier to believe with you here. Thank you."

This time, Caleb allows himself to unfold his arms and reach out.


	9. Chapter 9

“Lorenzo of the Iron Shepherds. They are currently hiding in a compound just outside Zadash. That is where our friends are probably being kept,” Caleb tells everyone gathered at Caduceus’. “They have been here for nearly a month trying to collect a bounty, and now there is a bounty on _their_ heads for 5000 gold pieces.”

Nila leans forward earnestly. “Gold means nothing to me. I just want my family back.”

“Same here,” Beau mutters. “Hey, you used to run with these guys, right? Got anything to add? Anything that’ll help us not die in there?”

The dwarven woman Beau brought with her, Keg, grimaces at the mention. “I regret telling you anything.”

The monk shrugs and downs her tea. “Yeah, well, to be fair, you only implied some of those things and I put the pieces together. What I’m trying to say is, you’re here trying to clear them off the map too, so we’re all on the same side.”

Molly glances over at him with an arched brow, probably wondering the same thing as him. “ _Are_ you on our side? Listen, Beau knows you somehow, which is nice and probably _nice_ , but there’s a lot riding on this. We have _family_ riding on this.”

Caleb holds a hand out and says, “Mollymauk, if I may?” Turning back, he looks Keg in the eye and says, “I _suggest_ you tell us everything that could help us against the Iron Shepherds.”

Keg blinks slowly at him for a moment and he wonders if the spell took. But then she starts listing the names of the group and their capabilities and the types of mercenaries they can expect. She names the five main members and looks at them seriously. “If you’re planning on going after Lorenzo, you should be prepared to take losses. And your friends? Don’t hold your breath.”

Both Beau and Molly bristle at her words. “You don’t know them. They can handle anything these people can throw at them.”

Shaking her head, Keg insists, “You don’t know the Iron Shepherds. This is what they do. They take people and they _break_ them. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were personally hired to collect on that bounty. They’re good at their jobs. I would know. I’ve watched them do it.” Then she shakes her head, freed from the spell. “The fuck did you just do to me?”

“I apologize,” Caleb says quickly, “but this is important and we needed to know those things.”

“You could’ve just _asked_!” Keg snaps.

Molly huffs. “And you would’ve happily offered all of that up?”

Keg opens her mouth to protest but the retort dies on her lips as she leans back and crosses her arms. “Maybe not. Listen, I’m not the best at social etiquette, but even I know this isn’t the way to make allies.”

“And _are_ you an ally?” Nott asks again slowly.

“...I need a drink,” Keg mutters. Accepting the flask from Nott, she takes a long swig and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Look, you assholes, I’m here to kill the Iron Shepherds. Let’s start there.”

\--

They spend the next hour familiarizing themselves with the Iron Shepherds and their methods before Beau brings up, “How do we get inside? We can’t go without disguises and not all of us can magic up our faces. But if we go in our usual get up, they’ll just go straight for Molly.”

“So the bounty’s on you, huh?” Keg mutters. “At least they’ll go out of their way to keep you alive. The Shepherds only take live bounty.”

Molly frowns. “That’s reassuring. I meant that both sarcastically and not, because that may work in our favour.” They watch as he pulls Jester’s bag over and reaches inside to retrieve familiar masks and cloaks. “How would you all feel about being Nonagon for a night? Once we start fighting, they’ll figure it out pretty quick, but maybe we can use these to lure some of them away and pick them off.”

Beau nods. “Sounds like a plan to me. Should we come up with code names for this or something?”

Caduceus takes a sip of his tea. “I was thinking of ‘Geoff’.”

Perking up, Molly says, “Huh, I was also thinking of ‘Jeff’.”

Beau shrugs. “I’ll take Geoffrey then.”

“I’ll take Jeffrey,” Keg offers.

“What about Jeffery but spelt the other way?” Nott asks.

“Like Jeffries?” Caleb suggests.

Nila tilts her head curiously. “Jaffe?”

Nott shrugs. “They literally all sound the same to me. Guys, I don’t think this is going to work. Besides, Geoff is a _stupid_ name.”

Caduceus blinks. “Really? I rather like it.”

For the first time since arriving at their apartment with Beau, Molly laughs, and Caleb feels himself release a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. “I think it’s a fantastic name! We can be ‘The Geoffs’.”

\--

Waiting until dusk, they make their way out to the forest the Iron Shepherds’ compound sits on the edge of. From the outside, it looks like an unassuming abandoned mansion, but the occasional patrolling guard tells them otherwise. They spend the next hour scouting out the building with the help of Nila and spider Frumpkin.

With his hand on Molly’s leg as he watches the infiltration through his familiar’s eyes, he only jumps a little when a hand covers his. Subtly hooking his thumb around the tiefling’s, he goes back to focusing on the spider’s sight.

Relaying his findings to the rest of the group as Frumpkin explores, Caleb waits until he sees Nila safely exiting the compound to return to his own sight. “I think I have a pretty good understanding of the building’s layout, but I did not see our friends or other prisoners in any of the rooms we entered.”

“Oh, I bet there’s a wine cellar in that place. Rich people _love_ wine cellars,” Beau says confidently.

“I’m not familiar with this place but they won’t keep bounties in the same place as the other captives,” Keg tells them. “It’d be bad for business to mix the goods up.”

Molly narrows his eyes. “How many do you think they’ve taken?”

Keg shakes her head and shrugs. “In a place like that? Ten? Those carts can’t carry too many cages but they’re shitty people so maybe fifteen to twenty if they brought in the smaller ones.”

“Okay, so if there’s a cellar, that’s probably where we’ll find Jester and Fjord and Nila’s family,” Nott says as the firbolg returns to the group.  

“If we’re lucky, there may be other prisoners who’ll help in the fight once they’re freed,” Molly points out, ignoring Keg’s skeptical noise. “Where would Yasha be kept?”

Caleb frowns and points to the second floor of the mansion. “Maybe upstairs near the living quarters? Somewhere they can keep a constant eye on her. Or, that’s where I would put her.”

Chewing on his thumb, Molly nods. “Makes sense. It’ll be the most heavily guarded place too.”

“Ja, but we may be able to work this to our advantage. If there is a wine cellar, it will likely be near the kitchen in the right wing, but the roof is collapsed, you see? So the living quarters are probably in the left wing,” he explains, gesturing to the building.

“Assuming that’s the case, we’ll have more room to move without alerting everyone inside. Yes, that’s good,” Molly mutters, nodding to himself. “So, what do we tackle first after we get in?”

“Perhaps freeing the prisoners would be a good idea,” Caleb suggests. “As you said, some may be willing to aid us—at least Jester and Fjord will.”

“Yeah, and your friend with the bounty? They won’t kill her,” Keg adds grimly. “I don’t know what shape you’ll find her in, but they won’t kill her. Prisoners are replaceable.”

Beau grits her teeth. “Okay, prisoners first then. And we kill everyone along the way.”

Caleb nods. “That _is_ our job.”

Nott smiles and cocks her crossbow. “And we’re _very_ good at our jobs.”

\--

They take out the mercenaries patrolling the perimeter right after their shift change. Piling the bodies in a bush, Caduceus walks over and whispers a couple of words and they watch as the bodies seem to collapse in on themselves a little. The firbolg smiles a little and tells them, “Something beautiful and unique will be here in a couple months’ time.”

“Oh, shit, I’ve never actually seen him at work before. That’s kind of freaky,” Beau whispers.

“It’s not freaky, he is just returning them to nature,” Nila says serenely.

The monk spares her an incredulous look before turning back to the rest of them with a shrug. They’re standing on the edge of the property donning the colourful capes Molly provided them.

“Are we ready then?” Caleb asks, holding his mask.

Molly nods. His tail is still, his horns stripped bare of their usual jewellery, and his eyes focussed. Slipping on the grinning mask, he says, “Let’s get to work.”

\--

Entering the mansion through a window in the right wing of the house, Nott immediately takes out another mercenary in the room and they find themselves in a study.

From there, they lure in another hired guard and dispose of her with Beauregard reaching out from the dark and snapping her neck with a quick pop. The sight of the monk killing with her bare hands sends a shiver down his spine. He remembers how it feels, how easily the human spine gives way to force.

There’s a bump to his hip as Keg walks by and begins hiding the bodies next to a shelf and out of sight. “It’s not perfect, but we’re killing everyone here so it’ll do.”

Coming back to, Caleb spares a glance over at Mollymauk, who’s standing perfectly still, solemn despite the masked grin covering his face. “The kitchen should be just down the hall,” he whispers. “Goblina, if you would.”

The small masked figure nods and scurries off out the door and into the darkness. They stand around tensely for a moment before a voice filters in through his mind. “Dirty Drifter, there’s a half-orc and a beefy human in the dining room. I think they’re with the Shepherds. You can reply to this message!”

He nods. “Okay, that is probably the druid and barbarian, Dwelma and Wohn. Stay there. We’re on our way.” Turning back to the rest of the group, he tells them, “Two of the Shepherds are in the dining room.”

“There’s a window into that room, right?” Beau asks. “I’ll loop around from the outside and meet you inside to flank them.”

“Ja, it’s the one before the fire place. Just look for the protrusion in the wall,” Caleb tells her.

Taking a moment to process his instructions, Beau eventually gives him a thumbs up. “Got it. Geoff, you can go invisible and sneak in or something, right? Let’s try to surround them and take them out quickly.”

“Should I hang back? My armour’s pretty loud,” Keg says.

Nila steps forward. “I can help with that.”

“I’m always happy to be a distraction,” Molly offers.

Beau nods and leaps back out the window. “Great. Let’s kill some Shepherds.”

Caleb turns and follows as Molly leaves the study and jogs down the hall towards Nott, his feet barely making a sound. Behind them, Caduceus is nowhere in sight while Nila casts a spell and Keg mutters her thanks.

It’d be faster to do this alone. Such a large group will only get in the way. Why is he even here? Helping people who won’t matter in the long-run, that little voice in the back of his mind hisses.

Pushing the thought back, he presses himself up against the wall while Molly saunters in front of the doorway and waves his familiar wave. In the room, he hears chairs being pushed back. “It’s the bounty! Get them!”

“Wait, there’s another one!”

Stepping out from hiding, he stands next to Molly, a Slow spell ready in his hand. In the back of the room, Beau and Caduceus are flanking the pair, the slightly crazed half-orc and large human woman with greasy blond curls and tattered leathers. Strapped to the human’s back is a familiar sword.

Molly pulls out his swords, an air of dangerous calm radiating from him. “That sword doesn’t belong to you, dear. You’re not nearly charming enough to wield it.”

“Yeah? You gonna take it back?” the barbarian taunts.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Then he surges forward.

Taking his cue, the rest of them move. A crossbow bolt flies in front of him and lands in the druid’s shoulder. Caleb quickly releases his spell and both of them freeze, their movements suddenly sluggish.

Focusing on Dwelma with Nila and Nott, he sends out a Fire Bolt at the half-orc only to have it bounce off her shield as she’s pierced by another bolt. Unfazed, the druid slowly raises her hand and utters an incantation and Caleb can feel his spell on her end.

Sending another Fire Bolt at her, he watches her block both his and Nott’s attack and utter the same spell again, dispelling the magic holding the barbarian back.

At once, he hears Beau grunt in pain, the clashing of metal, and a deep laugh as Keg curses. Frowning under the mask, Caleb starts readying a round of Magic Missiles when the room goes silent.

The magic fizzles out as his incantation is interrupted and he looks around for the source, recognizing the spell for what it is.

Dwelma smiles and pulls out a quarterstaff.

Quickly turning his attention back to her, Caleb pulls out his daggers and waits for her to make the first move.

He’s not disappointed.

The half-orc rushes forward and he easily side steps the attack, letting her clash with Nila behind him, who has her own staff out. Whipping behind the druid, he hones in on the unarmoured parts of her body, slashing a dagger through the muscle and tendon behind her knee.

She staggers and rears back around, ignoring Nila’s blows to her back and Nott’s shot that bounces off her armour. Caleb takes a step back and waits for the next attack. Despite the strange sensation of not being able to hear his own heartbeat, he can feel it pounding away in anticipation.

Dwelma slaps her staff onto the table, easily breaking the surface and splintering the tip of her weapon in silence. She grins and thrusts the quarterstaff at him. Caleb steps back but not quite out of her reach and hisses when the quarterstaff digs its way into his shoulder.

With his uninjured arm, he throws the dagger at her head and watches it hit her eye.

The druid lets out a soundless shriek and steps back, clutching at her face. Taking the opportunity, Caleb runs up and thrusts his remaining dagger into the side of her neck just as another bolt hits it from the other side.

Eyes wide, Dwelma chokes for a moment, blood spilling from her lips.

And then she falls.

Dead.

The silence remains.

Retrieving his dagger, Caleb looks to the other side of the room where the others are still fending off the barbarian’s onslaught of attacks. Wohn looks heavily wounded, though in her rage, she doesn’t seem to notice.

Beau leaps back, unable to reach the woman while she’s swinging Yasha’s great sword around. The sword flies in a wide arc, clipping Keg in the side. When it reaches the other side, Molly easily rolls out of the way and cuts into her arm with his blade covered in an icy sheen.

The woman takes another swipe at him and it occurs to Caleb that out of all people, Mollymauk must be very familiar fighting against someone so similar to his partner. As if to prove his point, the tiefling gestures to Beau, who nods and the both of them run for the human.

Dropping down, Beau slides forward and does a sweeping kick. The barbarian loses her footing and begins falling back. As she does, Molly runs up to her, treading on her torso with his swords at the ready.

He slices down into her neck with both his blades and leaps off her shoulders, righting himself in the air with a flip and landing easily.

Wohn hits the ground and he can feel the vibrations of the impact under his feet. She doesn’t get back up, blood pouring from her throat in a steady stream.

Turning around, Molly sheaths his non-magic sword and leans down. Picking Yasha’s sword up off the ground, he puts it into the haversack without embellishment.

Realizing that the silence is still there, Caleb gestures for them to regroup in the hall. There’s a slight pop to his ears and he sighs in relief as his hearing returns to him. The rest of the group mirror his reaction as they enter the hallway.

“So that’s two down,” Beau mutters. “How’s everyone so far?”

“Does anyone need healing?” Caduceus offers.

Molly shakes his head. “I’ll be fine. Save it for the prisoners.” Then he looks over. “Hey, that shoulder looks pretty banged up.”

Caleb looks down to where the staff pierced him and shrugs. “The cloak caught most of the splinters. It can wait.”

“Are you sure?” Nott asks.

He nods. “I will be fine. Perhaps we can tend to it later. Right now, I am more worried about who cast that spell.”

“It wasn’t one of those two?” Beau asks.

“No,” Keg says, “it was Ruzza. She’s normally the one who does the silence.”

“So that means they know we’re here already,” Molly mutters. “Why aren’t they sending all their men at us already?”

Keg shakes her head. “That’s not how Lorenzo does things. He’ll make us go to _him_.”

Yanking another sliver from his shoulder, Caleb frowns. “Make us fight under his terms, huh? We should at least free the prisoners first.” He turns towards the kitchen and motions for the others to follow. “Come, if there is a cellar, it will be back over this way.”

Backtracking down the hall a little, Nott scurries up ahead and pokes her head into the kitchen and holds up a finger.

One guard.

She raises her crossbow and fires.

There’s a quiet gasp and satisfied, she enters the room. Following her, Caleb steps into the kitchen and begins walking around, looking for anything out of place.

“I don’t see a cellar door,” Nott grumbles, opening random cabinets. “Maybe Tracy was wrong.”

“Maybe it is in that room over there,” he suggests, pointing to a plain-looking door at the opposite end of the room.

Nott nods and pushes her way into the second room. The others begin filing in after them except for Keg, who offers to stand guard by the kitchen door.

Standing by the doorway, he waits a full minute before he pulls out his copper wire and asks, “Goblina? Are you alright? You can reply to this message.”

“I’m fine. You were right! You’re so smart!” comes the reply.

Caleb turns back and says, “Tracy, you were right. There is a wine cellar in there.”

Beau pumps a fist in the air. “Called it! Rich people _love_ wine cellars!”

“Ja, well, hopefully you were also right about the prisoners,” he says before entering the storage room after Nott. He finds her standing behind a shelf and gesturing for him to wait.

Nott makes a noise of concentration and he can imagine her nose scrunching up and her tongue poking out just so under the mask. “Almost got it...ha!”

Across the way, there’s a click and the soft whirring sound of a trap disengaging. Poking his head around a shelf, Caleb spots a trap door and sends Frumpkin in to take a look.

He feels a hand on his uninjured shoulder as Frumpkin skitters down into the cellar in his spider form. Inside, he sees cages lining the walls. Inside each one, miserable figures are curled up in the far corner of their cages, their fear clearly visible under the dim glow of torches.

As Frumpkin ventures farther in, he watches two guards pace back and forth down the narrow corridor, occasionally reaching in to harass one of the prisoners. The prisoner, a firbolg too large to comfortably fit in the cage shudders and whimpers and withdraws as far as they can. The guard laughs and taunts the prisoner some more.

Not wanting to watch the maltreatment any longer, Caleb returns to his own senses just in time to see Beau and Nott opening the trap door and sneaking in. Hand sliding off his shoulder, Molly draws his other sword and follows after them.

“Are you alright?” Caduceus asks, his voice a soothing rumble.

Caleb nods. “Ja, I will be. We should go down there, Geoff. I think many people will be in need of your skills.”

By the time the two of them make it down to the cellar with Nila, the guards have been dispatched of and Nott is working on the locks. The sight and smell are somehow even worse through his own senses and he grimaces, glad to have a mask to hide his expression.

Caduceus immediately sits down and begins a prayer of healing while Nila walks down the corridor, scanning the cages and calling out to her family.

Eventually, she gets a reply and runs up to a cage. Caleb watches as she holds a child close, embracing him through the bars while another firbolg, her mate perhaps, stands and reaches out to hold her hand from an adjacent cage.

Without waiting for Nott, Nila sets her child down and grips the bars. With strength he’s only ever seen Jester exert, she bends the metal and scoops her child out, tears running down her face. Then, finishing with one lock, Nott scampers over to help free her mate from his prison, allowing the family to reunite.

Nott’s gaze seems to linger on the trio and he wishes he could see what kind of face she’s making and if it’s coloured in the same envy he feels deep inside. Walking over, Caleb reaches down and pulls her against his leg, giving her a light pat on the head. “You reunited a family, Goblina.”

“I’m not done yet, Dirty Drifter,” she says simply. Patting him back on the leg, she turns around and goes back to picking locks.

One by one, the cages are opened and the prisoners, a mix of people step out, confused and fearful of these masked figures that suddenly appeared.

Caduceus completes his spell and Caleb blinks when he feels his shoulder heal. Looking around, several of the prisoners perk up, suddenly feeling the effects of the holy magic.

“They’re not here,” Beau suddenly says. “Hey, has anyone seen a blue tiefling and green half-orc?”

“I think I might know the ones you’re talking about,” a raspy voice speaks up.

They all turn to see an older man with shocking white hair and eyes slowly pushing himself up onto his feet as a little black hummingbird zips towards him. Caleb immediately understands what it is and snaps Frumpkin back onto his shoulder.

The man notices this and nods to him. “You have one too then. This is Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna, or Stacy for short, but she doesn’t like that too much, do you, baby?”

Caleb glances down at his own familiar and replies, “This is Frumpkin. He is a cat. Usually.”

“Very nice,” the man says, like the statement made sense to him, “The Grand Duchess here has provided me with very interesting information though I’d rather not discuss it around sensitive ears.”

Following his nod over to Nila and her child, Caleb moves away from the prisoners towards the entrance of the cellar and up the stairs. Curious, Beau and Molly follow along while Nott and Caduceus continue aiding the captives. “We should be out of earshot now, Mister…”

The man smiles wryly. “You can call me Shakäste. Nice to meet you and many thanks for your help.”

“Oh, uh, you can call me Dirty Drifter here. Perhaps if we meet under better circumstances, we can exchange names properly,” he says a little ruefully.

“Nonagon,” Molly says with his finger wave.

Beau nods. “Hey, I’m Tracy.”

Shakäste has a bemused look on his face but seems to shrug it off. “I look forward to making your acquaintances properly then. For now, it sounds like you’re looking for friends.”

“Yeah, a blue tiefling, chirpy and adorable? And a green half-orc, bit of a drawl and no tusks?” Beau says.

“And a woman, tall, gorgeous, and an absolute charm? Black and white hair? Very goth and metal. May have been dressed like me,” Molly adds, his voice tentatively hopeful.

“The tiefling and half-orc were down there for a little while,” Shakäste says. “They were moved to make room for a new batch. I didn’t see your other friend, sorry.”

Beau frowns. “Did you see where they moved them? Maybe they’re all being kept in the same place.”

Shakäste nods. “I don’t know the exact location, but they’re probably in one of the rooms upstairs.”

Caleb considers the man’s information for a moment before asking, “It does not look like they have been sending people away, so why would they bring more into a full cellar?”

Lips quirking up slightly, the older man tells him, “You’re a sharp one. I didn’t want to say anything down there but they’ve been making room for more.”

“...how?” Molly asks.

Shakäste gestures around the kitchen. “There were more firbolgs when I was brought here. A lot more children.”

Beau pulls out a drawer and lifts her mask and vomits. Stepping behind her, Molly silently rubs her back.

Looking away, he pushes down his own nausea. “We...we have to ensure the remaining people down there get out safely. Goblina will get the cages open. Can you help them once they are out?”

“Sure can,” Shakäste agrees. “What are you going to do?”

“We’re going to fucking kill them all,” Beau rasps, wiping her mouth and slamming the drawer shut. Pulling her mask back down, she turns around. “We’re going to kill them and get our friends back.”

“I can help,” Nila says, emerging from the cellar. “I can help you fight these people!”

Caleb shakes his head. “Nein, Nila, please stay here and help these people escape. You have your family back and your child has just been through something terrible. He will need you. They all will. And I think we will also feel all the better knowing these prisoners are safe.”

“It’s fine, I’ll help kick some Shepherd ass on your behalf,” Keg says, resting her axe against her shoulder.

Beau gestures to the door where Molly is already standing. “Let’s get going. It’d be bad if they decide to send anyone this way while the people downstairs are escaping. Nila, let the other two know to catch up when they’re done, okay?”

Nila nods solemnly. “You have my word. Thank you. Someday I will find a way to repay you for your help.”

Giving her a thumbs up, Beau and Molly take off with Keg jogging after them.

“I’ll see to it that these people are out and then maybe I can come lend you my assistance,” Shakäste says.

“That would be much appreciated,” Caleb replies before following suit, “though I hope we will not need it.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Deleted Scene: Suggestion
> 
> “You had a spell,” Molly says quietly.
> 
> Caleb arches a brow. “I have many spells. Which one are you referring to?”
> 
> “The one you used on Keg. Y’know, to make her talk,” Molly replies with a vague gesture.
> 
> Suddenly, he understands where this is going and nods sheepishly. “Ja, I have that spell. Suggestion. It is helpful at times like this.”
> 
> Crimson eyes study him closely. “Why didn’t you use it on me? It would’ve brought everything out to the open much faster.”
> 
> Caleb shrugs. “Because I know you—because you are Mollymauk.”
> 
> A faint smile and a kiss to the forehead. “If you’re not careful, some people might accuse you of favouritism, Mister Caleb.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rated G for Graphic Violence

The three of them make it back toward the entrance hall fairly soundlessly, wincing as Keg’s heavy armour gives away any stealth they might’ve had. She mutters an apology but the damage is done.

They hear a deep laugh and a voice, “So the bounty’s come to us. It’s rare that the meat carries itself right to your table.”

Molly hisses something under his breath while Keg takes a step back and recoils in fear. Beau immediately turns around and asks, “Hey, are you going to be okay? Not going to freeze on us or anything? This could literally be a matter of life and death.”

“I’ll be fine. It just caught me off guard,” Keg retorts unconvincingly. Her breathing is shallow even as she readjusts her grip on her axe with trembling hands. “That was Lorenzo’s voice. It was like he was _right there_ but I didn’t see him, did you? Was he even there? Fuck!”

Caleb frowns. “Is invisibility an ability he has? Do you know how often he can use it?”

She shakes her head and lets out a frustrated noise. “What? Invisibility? I don’t know. He’s never really done this before, okay? We’ve always just grabbed people and left. People never really fought back.”

Beau immediately places a hand on her shoulder and mutters, “Breathe with me, okay? You’re going to be alright. We’re going to kill this guy and you’re going to help, right?”

Keg nods, more to herself than anyone else. “Yeah. Right.” She slows her breath and inhales deeply. “We’re going to kill him and then it’ll be over. Gods, I could use a drink.”

“You and me both,” Molly sighs, readjusting his mask. “After. We’ll go for drinks after this is done. I know a place. First round’s on me.”

They take their time and carefully continue into the entrance hall when an arrow suddenly goes flying down. Beau leaps in front of the projectile and catches it in the air. Spinning around, she leaps up and throws it. The arrow flies past the balcony upstairs, hitting the rogue, who grunts and stumbles back.

“I’ve got that one,” Beau tells them. Running forward and leaping from wall to wall, she grabs onto the rails and pulls herself up with ease.

“Such a show off. She’s going to get herself hurt. I’ll head up too,” Molly mutters, also taking off running. Hopping up onto the handrails, he dashes up to the second floor and leaps off with a flip, landing out of sight when he reaches the top.

“They’re exactly the same, the two of them. How do you even deal with such ridiculously dramatic people?” Keg huffs, looking for a place to hide despite her clanking armour.

Caleb follows close behind, ignoring that twist of affection in his chest at the mention of his friends. “They would both be very upset to hear that, I think.”

Keg rolls her eyes. “Exactly the same.”

From behind there comes the light sound of tiny feet hitting the ground and Nott is next to him in a flash, a little out of breath from running. “What’d I miss? Who do I kill? Where are the other two?”

Smiling behind the mask, he shakes his head. “Those two went upstairs to take care of the halfling, which leaves…”

Suddenly, Caleb notices a twist of colours in the air, bright and vibrant. Blinking, it disappears and for a moment, he’s transfixed but then quickly shakes off the feeling. Next to him, he hears Nott doing the same.

“Shit!”

They turn to see Ruzza standing there with her sword drawn. Caleb immediately throws a dagger at her and readies a spell. At the same time, Nott releases a bolt and Keg takes a swing from behind.

The bard manages to deflect his dagger with her sword but the bolt catches her in the arm and the axe in the back. With a grunt and a scowl, she turns towards the upstairs balcony and lets out a sharp whistle.

It’s echoed upstairs and suddenly, a group of mercenaries appear. Splitting off at the stairway, four of them start making their way down the stairs towards them while the remaining few join the fray on the second floor.

Caleb lets loose his Fire Bolt at one of the approaching figures and takes a step back to ready another spell. Nott continues to focus on the Ruzza while Keg steps in front of the stairs, ready to face down the hired guards.

From upstairs, a mercenary suddenly goes flying over the balcony, landing in a motionless heap on the ground below, black liquid still pouring from their eyes.

“Looks like they’ve got it under control up there,” Keg mutters, cutting into one of the mercenaries with her axe. “Let’s hurry up and get this over with before Fucko decides to join the fight.”

He watches a sword glance off her heavy armour without so much as a scratch and wishes he could walk around impervious to damage like that. But his training had always taught him to be light and fast, so that’s simply how he is now. Frowning at the thought, he lets loose a round of Magic Missiles, taking another guard out.

Behind him, he hears Ruzza shout insults at Nott while the goblin fires her own insults and crossbow bolts back with less success.

“Goblina, are you alright?” Caleb calls out.

Nott glances over and nods. “Doing great, thanks!”

Suddenly, Ruzza starts laughing. “It’s about time. Alright, Lorenzo, let’s see what you’ve got!”

They all follow her gaze up the stairs to where a towering figure suddenly appears. A blast of ice is sent out and both Beau and Molly leap out of the way, their identically cloaked silhouettes precariously balancing on the balcony’s railings.

Beau looks fine but part of Molly’s cloak is covered in frost and Caleb can’t get a good enough look to see what other damage they may have taken. Just at the edge of his vision, he sees the blade of a glaive being raised and the two leap away again as it comes down, smashing a portion of the banister.

“Dirty Drifter, go help them! We can handle things down here,” Nott tells him as Keg gets over her moment of fear and beats down another guard.

He’s about to run for the stairs when the bard lets out an incantation and both Nott and Keg suddenly freeze up. Turning back, Caleb throws his last dagger at Ruzza and releases another round of Magic Missiles at the mercenaries, taking out the one Keg had cut into.

Ruzza knocks the dagger away and charges forward with her sword as the remaining two guards try to flank him. Unable to dodge so many strikes, he throws up a shield and blocks the swarm of attacks with a grunt.

Glancing over at his discarded daggers, he quickly calculates the time he would need to reach them and decides against it. Instead, he settles for punching the bard. She lets out a yelp as his fist connects with her cheek. It doesn’t do very much damage, but it’s enough to break her concentration.

From upstairs, there’s another crash.

Nott and Kegg immediately leap back into action. “Hey!” the goblin calls out. Crumbs fall from her cloak. “Can you believe the barkeeper threw tea at me? I guess that’s what you get for hiring a _tiefling_!”

Caleb winces at the joke, but Ruzza stares for a moment before breaking into snickers and then falling to the floor in full blown laughter.

Running past the prone bard and evading her feeble attempt at an attack, Nott picks his daggers up off the ground and tosses them to him. “Go! We’ve got this!”

Catching the daggers, he tucks them away and runs past the pair of guards. One tries to swing at him but is parried by Keg, who shouts, “Hey, dick head, my axe is over here!”

He jogs up the stairs only to find both Beau and Molly being pushed back by Lorenzo. All three of them are in various states of beaten up, though it’s immediately obvious that Lorenzo is faring better than the other two. On the ground, several mercenaries and the rogue lie dead, the halfling’s neck bent at an unnatural angle.

Readying a Fire Bolt, Caleb reaches the top of the stairs and onto the second floor just as Lorenzo raises a leg to kick Beau away.

Black liquid suddenly runs from his eyes and Mollymauk seems to stumble a little, his shoulders heaving with exertion.

But it’s too late.

The kick lands and catches Beauregard squarely in the gut. Caleb dimly registers the sharp noise as her ribs cracking before she collides with him, the both of them sent flying back by the sheer force of the man’s attack.

His heart hammers in his chest, full of fear for his friend even as she lands on top of him.

A little higher and who knows what kind of organs might’ve been punctured by her broken ribs.

Quickly reorienting himself, Caleb rolls Beau onto her back and lifts her mask a little. Her face is scrunched up in pain and her breath is hitched and laboured as she desperately tries to draw air in. He pulls out a potion to empty into her mouth and mutters, “This is the only one I have. Don’t waste it.”

Beau sputters for a moment but manages to swallow the red liquid. After a moment, her pained expression loosens. It doesn’t disappear entirely, but it’s enough for her to open her eyes. Rolling over onto her side, even as she clutches her stomach in agony, she tries to push herself back up. “Fucking... Help me up. We gotta go help.”

“You are in no condition to fight,” Caleb argues back quietly. Ignoring him, she slings an arm around his neck and pulls herself up.

Left alone with the slaver, Molly hisses a curse and launches himself forward for an attack. He manages to land a few attacks on Lorenzo’s back before the man wheels around with his glaive. The man wipes the ichor from his eyes with a sinister smile. “Ah, is that why they’re so interested in you? I haven’t seen the other one’s unique talent yet.”

Molly bristles at the mention of his partner and spares a glance over to Caleb and Beau, but at a disadvantage with his swords’ range, he keeps his distance, unable to rejoin the other two. His cloak is in tatters and coated in blood, and he’s clearly favouring his right side, but he still hisses, “And you never will.”

Lorenzo chuckles. “Is that so? We’ll see about that. Let’s tidy up a little first.” He raises a hand toward the pair he just kicked away. “Whoever dies first will be made an example of. The other can join the cargo.”

Caleb can feel a powerful spell building and suspects it’s the same one he saw earlier. Even as he raises his own hand and readies a Counterspell, he knows the chances of success are low.

Behind, Molly shouts something in Infernal and runs forward. Lorenzo twitches just ever so slightly at the biting spell, his incantation interrupted. He turns around with his glaive raised. “So eager to demonstrate. Very well. Let’s start with you.”

Lorenzo swings down and Molly manages to parry the blow with both his swords, visibly struggling against the man’s strength. Twirling the glaive around, he goes for a thrust and Molly leaps back, barely dodging out of the way. He follows up by swinging the blade and the tiefling raises a sword in time to deflect the blow but it sends his blade flying out of his hand.

They continue the dance for a few seconds when Molly, exhausted and hurting, stumbles over the body of the dead rogue.

Seeing the opening, Lorenzo thrusts his blade forward.

Time seems to slow as Caleb watches the glaive sink into the tiefling’s sternum. Guiding the blade down, Lorenzo drives the glaive into the ground, pinning Molly down with it.

Caleb isn’t sure if he yells, his voice drowned out by the blood thrumming through his ears and Beau’s scream.

“Let’s see what kind of creature you are, _Nonagon_ ,” the slaver says. Using his foot, he tips the mask back and chuckles. “Just a tiefling then.”

Eyes narrowing, Molly spits at him.

Unfazed, Lorenzo merely wipes the blood off his face. “Spirited. I can respect that.”

Then he pushes the glaive in a little deeper.

Molly gasps, blood spilling from his lips.

A trembling hand reaches up and grasps the blade.

“Try not to die. You’re worth far more coin alive,” Lorenzo taunts.

As he goes to pull his weapon out, there’s a crackle, and he looks down to see the blade coated in a thick layer of ice, keeping it embedded in the tiefling’s chest.

Lorenzo arches a brow. “You want me to kill your friends with your own sword then.”

Molly doesn’t respond, his head lolling to the side.

Caleb drops Beau and rushes forward as the slaver takes the remaining sword from Molly’s limp hand. Dodging the scimitar easily, Caleb pulls out an adder’s stomach and sends an arrow of acid flying into Lorenzo’s stomach.

He frowns when he sees blue underneath the dissolved skin.

Grunting, the man smiles darkly and sheds his human appearance altogether, revealing a grotesque blue oni with cold yellow eyes. But even in this new form, Caleb can see the damage Molly and Beau managed to do before they were taken out. “Still haven’t learned your lesson yet? Another life it is.”

Caught off guard by the change, he moves too slowly to dodge the next swing and pulls out a dagger to deflect the blow. The blade misses his vitals but still manages to cut deep into his side.

Hissing, Caleb stumbles back and pulls out his other dagger. His side burns with pain but compared to the sight of Molly unmoving and bleeding out on the ground, the injury’s easy enough to ignore. He’s had practice. He’s had _training_.

Without the range of his glaive, Lorenzo steps forward and swings down. Caleb easily rolls out of the way and pivots around to the back of the oni. Digging his daggers into the slaver’s flesh, he hoists himself up and presses his enchanted glove to the back of Lorenzo’s head and fires all the spells he has left in his arsenal.

Fire Bolt after Fire Bolt, the oni’s neck spasms with each hit, smoke emitting from the back of his head as his hair burns away.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp crack and Lorenzo stiffens as the last bolt punctures a hole through his skull. He reaches up with widened eyes but it’s too late. The fire licks away at the contents of his skull, indiscriminate and merciless.

Falling onto his back as the oni drops dead, Caleb watches the fire spread and burn away at Lorenzo’s inhuman features. Dimly, he wonders if something similar happened to his parents and the thought paralyzes him.

He only partially registers Beau dragging herself to the balcony and calling down to someone for help before making her way over to him.

There’s a sharp slap to the side of his head.

Blinking and bringing a hand up to his head, Caleb looks up to see Beau, her blood-spattered circus mask grinning morbidly back at him. “The clerics are on their way up,” is all she says to him, her voice ragged and tight.

Caleb gives a start as everything returns to him, and immediately, he heaves himself back up onto his feet. “Mol...Nonagon…” Clutching his bleeding side, he limps over to Molly, Lorenzo’s charred corpse forgotten.

Kneeling down next to the tiefling, he sees the ice trapping the blade disappearing as the light fades from those crimson eyes.

“Nein, nein, nein, you have to hold on a little longer, Mollymauk,” he mutters, gently brushing the hair from his face. “Help is on the way. You will have your charm back soon. That’s why we came here, ja?”

Sitting down with her back against the wall not too far from Molly, Beau clutches at her ribs and hisses, “ _Fuck you_ for doing this. I’ll never forgive you if you die on us.”

“Oh dear. That’s not good.”

Caleb turns to see Caduceus and Shakäste reach the top of the stairs with Nott and Keg. The dwarf gasps but keeps her distance as Nott runs forward, panicked yellow eyes shining from behind her mask. “Is he still alive!? Will he be okay!?”

The clerics both look down at the tiefling and frown. “We’ll do what we can, darling,” Shakäste tells her. “First things first, that blade’s going to have to come out.”

“I can...I can do that,” he mutters, pushing himself back up once more. Wrapping his fingers around the wooden handle, he blinks when another pair of hands join his.

Keg shrugs sheepishly. “You look kinda weak.”

“I am,” Caleb agrees.

 _So very weak_ , that voice taunts.

Taking a deep breath, the two of them pull the glaive out. He stifles the urge to gag at the sound the blade makes as it’s freed.

Molly’s back arches with the blade for a moment. More blood pours from his lips.

And then he falls limp.

The clerics immediately set to work closing the wound and Caleb watches closely but Molly’s eyes remain blank and his chest fails to rise.

He drops the glaive in favour of clutching at his cloak. “Nein, nein, nein, bitte…komm schon, bitte...”

The wound closes slowly until it’s nothing more than a raw, jagged scar. And rooted to the spot, all Caleb can do is continue watching. He should’ve come up with a better plan, should’ve gotten up there faster, should’ve—

Suddenly, Molly lets out a gasp and coughs out more blood. He takes a shallow, shuddering breath in and his eyes flutter close but he continues breathing.

Caleb’s knees give out and he falls back to the ground in relief. Nott’s immediately by his side looking him over. “Are you alright? You’re hurt! Do you need a potion?”

“A little hurt, ja, but nothing serious. You should save it. Those potions are not cheap,” he replies clutching at his side, still sluggishly oozing blood. His eyes never leave Mollymauk. “We should go find the others. They are probably down the hall.”

“No, you stay here and rest and make sure everyone here’s still breathing. I’ll go look for them,” Nott insists.

Giving Lorenzo’s corpse a wide berth, Keg walks over with her axe at the ready. “I’ll come with you in case there’s anyone hiding in the rooms still.” Glancing back for a moment, she mumbles to Beau, “I’m glad your friend’s not dead.”

Beau scoffs and waves her off. “Yeah, me too.”

“Remember to look for traps, Goblina,” Caleb calls after the pair as they run off.

“I will!” Nott waves back in affirmation and disappears down the hall.

Scooting over closer to Molly, he looks to the clerics and asks, “I take it all the prisoners have made it out safely?”

Shakäste smiles and nods. “You got it. That friend of yours took charge and said she’d lead her folks back to their tribe and the others back to the city. She’s a good girl, that one.”

“That’s one piece of good news, at least,” Caleb sighs. “Tracy, how are you holding up?”

“About the same. Broken ribs. Broken whatever else. This fucking sucked but I’ll live. Actually, I think I might’ve died without that potion...so thanks, man,” she replies.

He nods and gives her a thumbs up before turning his attention back to Molly and watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Caduceus sits down next to him and puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “He has a strong attachment to life. I think he’ll be just fine.”

Glancing over, Caleb purses his lips. “I hope you are right.”

They sit in silence for a couple of minutes when he hears a gasp and looks over. Emerging from the hall, Jester and Fjord appear.

Both of them look haggard and beaten. There are angry rope marks around their wrists and deep bruises under their eyes, but they’re _there_ and _alive_. He’s taken aback by the sheer relief that floods through him at the sight of them.

Jester breaks into a run towards them, skidding to a halt when she gets a better look at the body they’re all sitting around. “Molly!? What happened to him? Is he—I’ll...I’ll heal you, Molly!” She’s still mumbling in Infernal when a wave of magic falls over them all.

Unlike the light, bubbling energizing feeling of Jester’s magic, this feels more cool and refreshing like a stream rolling through a forest.

Caleb looks down and watches his side knit back together, relief replacing the pain. Across from him, Beau lets out a quiet groan as her torso fixes itself a little more.

“There, that’s better,” Caduceus rumbles, getting up from where he’s been sitting. “Oh, Jester, Fjord, you found us. That’s good. That’s very good.”

Blinking, Jester looks over, the red marks around her wrists growing fainter from the spell. Even so, there are large tears running down her cheeks as she asks, “Caduceus? Is that you? What happened to Molly? Why is he here? Why isn’t he moving? You healed him, right? Can _I_ heal him? Can I help? He’s not—he’s not...is he?”

“He’s going to be fine, darling. He’s been through a lot but he’ll be fine,” Shakäste says kindly. “We may have briefly met in the cellar. I’m Shakäste.”

Fjord walks over, partially healed as well. “I remember you. You were in that cage across from us. I’m Fjord and that’s Jester. I’m pleased to see we all made it out safely. Now, can someone please catch us up?”

“Yeah,” Beau mutters. “It’s a bit of a story though.”

“Oh!” Jester runs over to the monk, nearly throwing herself at the other woman as she goes in for a hug and knocks her mask off in the process. “Beau! You’re alright! I was so afraid they hurt you but you’re okay! And you came for us! Oh, you’re still hurt. Here, let me heal you!”

Beau’s eyes fill with tears as she throws her arms around the cleric. “Thanks, Jes. I’m glad you’re okay too.”

“It’s really good to see you, Beau. Why are y’all dressed up like that?” Fjord asks.

“Like Nonagon you mean,” Caleb says with a nod to Molly, still glancing back occasionally to make sure that the tiefling’s condition hasn’t worsen.

Eyes widening with realization, Fjord mutters, “...oh shit. Then the Charm was…”

Caleb nods. “Yasha. Ja, I believe Nott is looking for her now.” Turning to Shakäste, he rubs the back of his neck and lifts his mask. “I suppose this is a good a time as any for proper introductions. My name is Caleb Widogast. Thank you for your help.”

Beau lifts a hand and nods. “Hey, I’m Beau.”

“Well, that was exciting,” Caduceus says, taking his mask off too. “Caduceus Clay. Pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s a pleasure to properly meet you all,” Shakäste returns.

Suddenly, there’s a roar and a faint burst of energy from down the hall. Caleb immediately pulls out his copper wire and asks, “Nott the Brave, what happened? Are you alright? You can reply to this message.”

“It’s Yasha! She’s on her way and she’s _really_ mad!”

Staggering to his feet, Caleb watches Yasha’s figure appear from the darkness, skeletal wings spread behind her and giving off waves of necrotic energy. Despite the severity of the situation, idly, he suspects those wings may be the cause of the money on their heads. Behind her, Nott and Keg are jogging after her, frantic to keep up.

Her eyes immediately hone in on the body on the ground and he steps in her path and holds his hands up. He hopes it’ll be enough to stop her because if she continues to keep going, he’ll have to resort to using his last spell slots.

Yasha’s pace slows to a halt. Briefly glancing at him, recognition flashes in her eyes as she takes in his face. “Caleb?”

He nods quickly. “Ja, it’s me. It’s alright, Yasha. Bitte. Mollymauk is alive. He is very hurt but he is still alive.”

She doesn’t answer but she doesn’t attempt to get any closer, gaze trailing to the blood soaked glaive discarded on the ground and then back over to Molly. Her mismatched eyes linger there for a few moments and the rage on her face falls away to something more like grief as she asks, her voice soft and heartbroken, “Caleb, how did this happen?”


	11. Chapter 11

Caleb rubs the back of his neck and turns his gaze back to the tiefling. “You were taken with Jester and Fjord by the Iron Shepherds, and Mollymauk and Beau came to rescue you. We were split up. Those two were up here fighting when Lorenzo showed up and he...well, he is dead now and we are not. But Mollymauk took the brunt of his attacks.”

Walking around him, Yasha drops to her knees next to her partner and lowers her head. Her shoulders quivering, she shakes her head. “It happened again...even though I promised I would protect you,” she whispers, clasping the tiefling’s bloodied hand.

“Mollymauk will be fine. We will not lose him,” Caleb says again quietly. Placing a hand on her shoulder hesitantly, he adds, “He tried very hard to get to your side. He tried very hard, and...I think, even now, he’s holding on just for you, Yasha.”

“He saved our lives, both me and Caleb’s,” Beau tells her. “He didn’t have to do that but he did.”

“Oh, my Mollymauk…” Yasha says, bringing the hand up to her lips. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

Jester walks over to her and wraps her arms around the bigger woman, a faint glow emitting from her hands as she casts a healing spell. The cuts and bruises lining Yasha’s arms start disappearing but she doesn’t seem to notice or care, her focus strictly honed in on Molly.

Caduceus looks around at the group and gently suggests, “Come on, let’s bring everyone back to my place. It looks like we could all use a cup of tea and a little time to properly heal.”

Yasha looks down and scoops Molly into her arms, holding him close. Her smeared makeup help hide some of the bruises on her face, but if anything, it seems to highlight her anguish as she keeps her eyes trained on the tiefling’s face.

“Wait, take this,” Caleb says, taking off his mask and cloak and handing them over to her. “I can still disguise myself.”

Next to him, Jester casts a spell to disguise herself as a little old woman and lifts Beau up in a piggyback. Both Fjord and Beau chuckle at the sight and the monk wraps her arms around the tiefling. “I love you, Jes. Don’t you guys ever do that to me again, okay?”

Fjord, now disguised as an old human sailor, rests a hand on her shoulders and smiles. “We’ll try our best. You did good, Beau. We’re proud of you.”

Jester nods along in enthusiastic agreement. “Yeah, super proud. We’re sorry for worrying you, and thanks for coming to get us even though we _definitely_ knew you would.”

“Fuck, they suddenly got old?” Keg asks, her voice alarmed and confused.

“Oh yeah. By the way, that’s Keg,” Beau says. “I met her at a tavern and she helped too. We can go over everything later, let’s just get out of here first. This can’t be a fun place for you guys.”

The smile on Jester’s disguise falls a little and Fjord gives her arm a reassuring squeeze. The tiefling glances over and then back at Beau and her smile returns. “Yeah, I don’t like it, but it’s okay as long as the Ball-Eaters are together.”

Watching the scene, Caleb smiles to himself and tucks Nott close to his leg. “You go on ahead. We will meet you there. Goblina and I will go through the mansion one more time and make sure we did not miss anything or anyone.”

“And I think it’s about time I head on home,” Shakäste says. “Thank you for the offer though.”

“Where will you go?” Nott asks.

“Rexxentrum, darling,” he answers with a smile. “If you’re ever in the area, give me a holler. I’ve got a little place called ‘The Grand Duchess’ set up there.”

“It was lovely meeting you, Mister Shakäste. Perhaps if the fates dictate, we’ll meet again,” Caduceus says with an easy smile. Then he looks over at Lorenzo’s body and says, “Should we take his head with us?”

Fjord makes a face at the suggestion. “What for? Caduceus, you wanna keep it as a trophy or something? Who or what is that anyway?”

Caleb looks back over to the battered and charred body of the oni with disdain. “Ah, you have not seen him in this form. That is Lorenzo of the Iron Shepherds—or, was.”

Jester’s eyes widen even as she avoids looking at the monster. “Oh, Deucy, you’re a genius! It’s a spell! If you have his head, we can ask him questions later!”

“That sounds disgusting,” Fjord mutters, stepping forward with his falchion. “Guess I’ll do it.”

Watching him cut through the neck, Keg frowns. “I thought it’d be more satisfying.”

“Maybe try spitting on it,” Beau suggests.

Keg does and nods in surprise. “Yeah, that kinda helped.”

“That’s great. Mind helping me carry it out of here?” Fjord asks.

As the rest of the group march off, his eyes trail after Yasha and that unmoving body in her arms until they’re out of sight. Left alone, Caleb crouches down and lets out a deep sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “What are we doing?” he mutters quietly.

Nott wraps her arms around him. “We’re helping our friends. It may not line up with our goals completely, but it’s not a bad thing.”

“We could have died here,” Caleb says, looking up.

“And Mollymauk _would’ve_ died or worse if you didn’t come,” she tells him. 

“He saved us first. If we did not come—”

She cuts him off. “Then Beau would be dead right now. Or Keg. Or Mister Clay. Or maybe Jester and Fjord and then Yasha and Molly would get shipped off somewhere for their organs or something. Caleb, we _needed_ you here. This wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”

Caleb shakes his head. “You don’t know that.”

“But I do. Everyone’s safe now, aren’t they?” She hugs him a little tighter. 

He nods and gets back up. “Ja, they are. Somehow.” 

“Not just somehow—with _your_ help, Caleb,” Nott insists. “Let’s just get out of here and we can go back to planning our move to Rexxentrum if that’s what you want. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

Looking down, he smiles. “Danke. I don’t know what I would do without you, Nott the Brave.” 

Nott smiles, eyes narrowing fondly behind the mask. “You’d still be on the floor probably.”

“Probably,” Caleb agrees. “Come, let’s see what the Iron Shepherds left behind.”

\--

After the search, they leave the mansion and Caleb burns the building down. Although it goes against his usual modus operandi, the thought of another group coming in and starting a similar business makes his blood boil.

Taking Nott’s hand, they traverse back out towards the city and weave through the sewers. By the time they reach Caduceus’ house, the sun has risen and Zadash starts stirring to life, unaware of everything that just happened on its outskirts.

Caduceus greets them at the backdoor and leads them inside to a darkened room with the curtains drawn shut. There, Caleb can see Molly’s form on the bed and Yasha resting in a chair next to him. On the floor, the Ball-Eaters and Keg are huddled together and asleep under a large blanket.

“There’s another room if you’d prefer some privacy,” the firbolg says, offering them a blanket.

Caleb looks down to Nott and back to the room filled with sounds of breathing and soft snoring. They both shake their heads. “This room will be fine, thank you.”

Taking the blanket, he walks over to the foot of the bed and sits down with his back against it. “Do you want to sleep here or over there with Jester? I know you have missed her.”

Nott curls up by his waist and makes a point to snuggle up again him. “No, right here is perfect, Cay-Cay.”

He smiles and wraps an arm around her. “Okay. Gute Nacht, Nott.”

\--

It’s the middle of the day when he comes to again. Registering the sounds from outside the room and birds chirping in the garden, Caleb looks around and takes a moment to remember where he is. Gently easing Nott off him and tucking her back in, he stands up and looks to the bed where Molly still lies.

Yasha glances over at him briefly and shakes her head.

He nods and takes the bag of holding he and Nott procured in the mansion and quietly leave the room. In the kitchen, he sees Caduceus already up and cooking a large meal. “Ah, Mister Caleb, up already?”

“Ja, hallo. Do you need any help?” he asks.

“No, I’m fine here. Oh, actually, would you mind bringing the tea over to the living room? The others should be up soon,” Caduceus says.

Caleb briefly wonders if that includes Mollymauk but does as he’s told. Setting the tray down on a nearby table, he sits down on the rug and begins emptying the bag of holding.

He pulls out Lorenzo’s glaive, still coated in Molly’s blood. Frowning, he considers casting Prestidigitation on it for a moment but decides against it. That’ll be something for the group to decide.

Next, he finds several platinum pieces that has his eyebrows raising. Counting them carefully, he stacks them in a small pile to the side and resumes rummaging. There’s a red gem that he adds to the pile and then a scrap of paper. 

Unfolding it, he reads the letter and frowns.

Just then, Beau and Fjord come into the room with plates of food. “Mornin’, Caleb. We didn’t hear you come in. Did you sleep well?”

Nodding, he answers, “Ja, fine, danke. Where is Keg? I heard you two leaving the room this morning.”

He decides against mentioning the sound of Fjord and Jester’s nightmare-fuelled whimpers that followed not too long after.

Beau grins lazily. “She snuck out the window, or she tried to. It was kinda cute, actually. But she left me a thank you note say to say goodbye so that’s that, I guess.”

Arching a brow, Caleb says, “I see. Other than that, how are you two feeling?”

Stretching out his neck, Fjord shrugs. “Could be better but I’m not complaining. Jester will be up in a sec, so she can probably do a bit more healing.”

“I’ll feel better when Molly wakes up,” Beau mutters. “I need to tell him off for being a dumbass.”

Fjord chuckles. “Normally I’d disagree, but yeah, same here.” Then he looks over. “What’s that you got there, Caleb?”

Caleb purses his lips. “Oh, these are things we found in the mansion. We can split the platinum later, but more alarming is this.”

Beau takes the piece of paper and her expression darkens. “What the fuck.”

She passes the letter to Fjord who scans it and looks over at the pile of coin with a frown. “That’s a hefty sum for a deposit.”

Running a hand through his hair, he nods. “Ja, it is and there may have been more. We should show it to Yasha. Maybe she will have a better idea who is after them.”

He’s about to get up when Beau shakes her head. “Sit your ass down, Widogast. Breakfast first. We haven’t eaten since I don’t know when. Let’s talk it over with Jester and Nott and them too. And it’d be good for Yasha to get a little more rest. Also, you look like shit.”

Reluctantly, Caleb sits back down despite the restlessness thrumming through him. “You look like shit too.”

“I know and I feel like it. That’s why I’m eating,” she mutters, filling her plate.

Minutes later, Nott comes out of the room and sits next to him. “Jester will be out in a sec. She’s just healing Molly and Yasha.” Then she looks up. “You guys look tense. Did something happen? Do we have to kill more people?”

“Possibly.” Fjord passes the letter over.

Scanning the note, Nott’s eyes widen, turning to look at the platinum and back to the note then back to the coin again. “Holy shit,” is all she says.

Despite himself, he feels a faint hint of amusement at the sheer disbelief in her expression. “We are all in agreement then: holy shit.”

“We should figure out a way to break the news to Yasha,” Fjord says quietly.

“To break what news to Yasha?”

They all turn to see Jester and Caduceus.

Caleb sighs. “Ah, well, there is something you should see.”

\--

One by one, they pass the letter around until they’re all sitting and eating in heavy silence. “We need to tell Yasha,” Jester concludes. “And Molly when he wakes up.”

Filling a plate full of food, they bring it back to the room where Yasha is still sitting next to the tiefling. She lifts her head, looking less bruised and battered than before. “Hello.”

Beau steps forward and hands her a plate of food. “Here. Thought you might be hungry.”

“Thank you,” Yasha says, taking the plate and setting it in her lap. “Is something wrong?”

“That would depend on how you feel about this,” Caleb says, passing the letter. He keeps his distance from Molly though he does spare a glance over.

No change.

Scanning the contents of the letter, he watches Yasha’s expression shifts into something dark and deadly. “What does it mean, ‘you will have all the information you need’?”

“I figured it meant you might have an informant leaking your targets to the people after you,” Beau says. Then she shrugs. “Or, y’know, that’s just what I think.”

“It is a good thought,” Caleb says. “It makes sense.”

She stares at him for a long moment and he tilts his head questioning back. “No, it’s just weird hearing you take my side.”

Caleb shrugs. “We are all on the same side.”

“Yeah, I know that. Never mind,” Beau mutters. “So what do you wanna do now, Yasha? We have Lorenzo’s head and apparently we can ask him five questions before he’s gone forever, or we have this new lead.”

“I think we should find out more information to come up with informed questions before we use up our only chance at speaking to the head, but it is entirely up to you,” Caleb says.

Yasha hesitates, looking back to Molly. 

“Tell us what to do,” Jester says. “We’ll help you and you can keep an eye on Molly for all of us.”

Nott nods, chiming in, “He’ll want to see you when he wakes up. He was very worried about you and we’re all very worried about him, so you should be here.”

“...thank you. Okay. I have an idea,” Yasha says.

Everyone eagerly leans in a little closer.

A small smile graces her lips as she waves them back. “Calm down.”

\--

“I still think Fjord would’ve been a better idea,” Beau complains as the two of them trudge over to Moondrop and Fletching’s. 

“Ja, I agree, but Yasha had a point. They definitely know who we are,” Caleb mutters back.

Beau scoffs and elbows him. “They know who _you_ are, loverboy.”

Cheeks reddening, he elbows her back sharply, although he makes sure to avoid her ribs. “I am sure they also know who you are, Beauregard.”

“Oh sure, I’m a regular, but you’re a _regular_ given how often you _come_ here,” she says with a grin and wink.

“What are you trying to—no, don’t answer that.  We can discuss this later, and by that, I mean we will never speak of this again. We are here on serious business,” he quickly replies, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

She bursts into laughter and for a moment, things feel normal again. “Ow,” she winces and punches his arm, “my _ribs_. Don’t make me laugh, you asshole.”

Caleb spares her an indignant look before walking up to the tavern. Inside, the staff immediately turn to them, tension written all over their faces. He walks up to the bar where the half-orc and clears his throat. “Hallo. Can we speak to Gustav, please?”

Bo eyes the two of them critically and slowly nods. “He’s in his office, just show yourselves in.”

They nod and make their way to the back. Knocking on an innocuous door, they hear a faint “come in” and step inside. Gustav looks up, the deep bruises around his eyes revealing the extent of his concern. “Ah, it’s you two. Do you have news? Where’s Mollymauk and Yasha? Are they safe?”

“Ja, they are fine. Mollymauk was injured and is resting. Yasha is keeping an eye on him and did not want to leave his side, so we are here on her behalf,” Caleb explains. 

The half-elf breathes a sigh of relief. “That’s good to hear. I feel better knowing Yasha is watching over him.”

Looking around the room, he asks, “Is this a good place to speak?”

Gustav gestures to the door where he notices a small rune carved into it. Smiles wryly, the man tells them, “There’s one on the storage room door too. Why do you think Mollymauk likes using that room so much?”

Caleb feels his face growing hot, and too flustered to speak, he gestures for Beau to do the talking. “ _Nice_ ,” she says appreciatively instead, elbowing him.

He shakes his head and turns away, pulling his scarf up as high as it will go, still too mortified to open his mouth.

It takes her a moment to stop snickering but eventually, Beau straightens herself out and says, “Anyway, it’s about the bounty on those two. Do you have the latest subscription? We have a plan.”

All the levity seems to drop from Gustav’s face as he leans forward. “Go on.”

\--

Returning to Caduceus’ house, Beau and the rest of the group decide to leave with the intention of refilling Caduceus’ pantry after having cleared it out over the last day. With as much privacy as he can be afforded in this situation, Caleb elects to stay behind and finally decides to see Molly. 

Entering the room silently, he’s met with Yasha and nods his greeting to her. Understanding his intention but not willing to leave the tiefling alone, she gets up and steps away to give him some much appreciated space.

“He looks very peaceful like this,” Caleb says quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. It’s the wrong thing to say and he winces as soon as the words leave his mouth.

Leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, Yasha nods. “It doesn’t suit him, does it? Not like this.”

“Nein, not like this,” Caleb agrees.

Looking down, he brushes a stubborn lock of hair aside. Molly doesn’t react. His eyes don’t flutter open and he doesn’t smile and take his hand with a teasing remark. Caleb wonders how much longer he’ll have to listen to this silence and watch this stillness.

 _Too attached_ , the voice taunts him. _How will you leave? They’ll use it against you. You have to go._

“Normally when he’s asleep, his tail never stops moving until it finds something to hold,” Yasha says with a nostalgic smile. “We were on the road and the twins and Toya used to play around and see how many things they could make his tail grab when he napped.”

It’s not a difficult scene to imagine and he can’t help but smile along. “Did he know about it?”

She shakes her head. “He never told me but, you know, I like to think he knew. Molly would’ve played along.”

“Ja, I am sure he would,” Caleb says. He glances up for a moment and pauses before asking, “Have you two always been together?”

Yasha studies him for a moment and shrugs. “We’ve been together since the circus, but that was more as performers and security, you know? Then we moved to the city and I joined the job because one day, Molly needed me and I wasn’t there, and I promised him I would never let that happen again but…”

He frowns and looks up. “I hardly think this is in any way your fault. You were a prisoner and held against your will, and I think Mollymauk felt much the same way you did, like he let you down. But really, it was just a bad situation none of us had any control over.”

“Caleb?” Yasha says.

He nods. “Ja?”

Mismatched eyes turn to him. “Thank you for helping them—for helping _us_. Beau said you were the one who took down Lorenzo. You didn’t have to help, but you did. So...thank you.”

Caleb shakes his head. “I have not done anything worth thanking.” He thinks back to Beau and Molly bursting into their apartment, frantic and desperate. He thinks of Molly next to him in the dark, warm and comforting, whispering to him that he had a choice, that there’d be no judgement. “It was just...I was not willing to walk away from this.”

\--

“I can’t believe they fight like this,” Fjord mutters, pushing the cloak out of the way.

“The Charm does not speak,” Caleb reminds him, poking his head out from around a corner. 

Their original plan had been for Yasha to come on the mission, but with Molly still out, they decided to switch her out for Fjord, being of similar height. “You know them well.”

“We ran into each other a lot on the job,” he explains. 

Suddenly, he hears, “We got it done, Dirty Dr—uh, I mean, ‘Nonagon’! You can reply to this message!”

Caleb nods. “It’s done. Are you ready?”

Fjord gives him a thumbs up. It’s still a far cry from Yasha, but the mask does a good job at hiding that fact.

Taking out the copper wire, he whispers back, “We are on the way. Is everything in position? You can reply to this message.”

“Yes! All clear!”

The two of them creep to the edge of the house and stare at the fence for a moment. He can hear a quiet groan from Fjord as he puts his hands together to boost him up. If this were Molly and Yasha, she would probably push him into the air and he would effortlessly flip through the air and land on the other side.

But he’s a far cry from Molly and neither of them even come close to matching Yasha’s strength, so he awkward scales the fence and throws a rope back over for Fjord. Their entrance is bumbling and graceless and Caleb can already hear Molly laughing at their attempt.

It takes some effort, but they eventually make their way into the building. Gesturing for the other to follow, he leads them into a study where the target is sitting at a desk. 

At the sight of them, the target looks up with a gasp and stands up, knocking the chair to the ground. Running forward, Caleb takes out his daggers when the door suddenly closes behind them.

Turning around, he sees three people blocking the doorway, armed and trying to corner them. Fjord huffs, refraining from speaking, and Caleb raises a hand to stop them and asks, “Excuse me, which of you is in charge?”

The three look to one another in disbelief before the middle one speaks up, “That won’t matter to you in a sec.”

“Ah, you then,” he says, sending a round of Magic Missiles at the other two. Next to him, Fjord summons his falchion and sends a blast of energy at the one to the left, who crumples to the ground.

Behind him, the target summons a large glowing lollipop between the mercenaries and the door with a grin. “We got you!”

Then bursting from behind a shelf, Nott and Beau run out decked out in matching masks and cloaks. Nott takes out the mercenary to the right with a bolt while Beau punches the man in the middle, landing a well-aimed hit to his back.

The man freezes up and glances down at his fallen comrades then at them. “Who are you!?” he hisses.

“We don’t have a team name for this specific occasion yet,” Beau says just as Nott shouts, “The Charming Dirty Ball-Eaters!”

“The Charming Dirty Ball-Eaters!” Jester echoes enthusiastically.

Looking over at the pair, Beau shrugs. “Sure, let’s go with that for now. Back to the point though.” She grabs the man by the hair and yanks back, tilting his head up. “Let’s have a chat.”

The man spits at her.

Exhaling slowly, she wipes the spit off and punches him in the face. “Who sent you!?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know! They never gave me a name!” he cries back.

“What do you know about them?” Beau asks.

The mercenary shakes his head. “Nothing! It’s some rich person from Rexxentrum! You won’t get anything useful out of me! They made sure of it!”

Caleb stiffens and asks, “How did you know to find us here?”

The man doesn’t answer.

“Y’know, we’ll get the answers out of you one way or another,” Fjord says slowly, stepping closer. “It’s up to you if you want to be alive to answer them or not.”

Recoiling back in fear, the man tells them, “...there’s an informant in the city. They left instructions. It’s in my pocket!”

Beau reaches in and pulls out a piece of parchment and hands it to Caleb. “You never met them?”

“No!”

Jester frowns. “Where are you supposed to bring them?”

The man shakes his head. “I don’t know! They said we’d get more information after!”

Caleb makes a note to bring this up with the group again later. Stepping back, he says, “Well, I think our time is almost up. Does anyone else have any last questions?”

Raising her hand, Jester asks, “Do you shave your butt?”

The mercenary stares at her agog as the minute passes. “What? No? Why would I shave…? Are you done? Can you let me go now?”

Beau scoffs and tightens her grip. “Let you go? Who said anything about that?”

Nott loads her crossbow with a click and raises it. “We literally kill for a living. I don’t know what you were expecting.”

\--

Disposing of the bodies, they regroup back at Caleb’s apartment with it being the closer than Caduceus’ house. Bringing spare blankets out for the others, he says, “We should come up with a list of questions to ask the head.”

“Should we catch the informant first?” Beau suggests. “Like you said, we’ll have a better chance at actually getting useful information if our questions are informed.”

He stares at her.

“What?”

Caleb shakes his head. “Nothing. I did not think you would be listening so closely.”

She narrows her eyes. “Whatever. It made sense, okay?”

Fjord steps forward before either of them can come up with another retort. “So we know what we’re doing next then? Informant first then Lorenzo’s head?”

“We should probably cash in his glaive at some point too,” Nott says. 

Jester nods. “We can go together after Molly wakes up.”

\--

The next morning, the group splits up on separate duties and he goes alone to the Evening Nip to exchange their proof of kill. The elven woman greets him as usual in the back room. “Good morning,” she says with a nod. “Will this be under ‘Mother and Child’ or ‘Dirty Ball-Eaters’?”

His eyebrows fly up, too surprised to remember to be embarrassed for a moment. “I suppose Dirty Ball-Eaters would be the more accurate choice,” he says, mumbling the words.

The elf’s face remains impressively impassive as she jots something down and goes about her usual routine retrieving the reward. As she hands it over, she asks him, “The Gentleman wished to inquire after a certain item in your possession?”

Caleb nods. “Ja, of course. Please tell him we will bring it to him after we tie up some...loose ends.”

“Understood. And this will also be under Dirty Ball-Eaters?” she asks.

At this point, he suspects she’s just saying their team name as many times as possible to mess with him. He shakes his head. “Nein, it will be a different group with a different name.”

The woman regards him for a moment before nodding. “Very well, we will expect to see you and your gifts soon. Don’t keep the Gentleman waiting.”

“Ja, we will try not to,” Caleb mutters, leaving with the reward and counting it out as usual in the side room. 

Satisfied with the coin, he tucks the pouch away in an inner pocket and leaves. 

Back on the streets, he passes by a little trinket vendor seeing up shop for the day. Against his better judgement, he slows his pace. 

Seeing this, the vendor immediately pounces. “Hello there, young man. Looking for a special little something for a special someone?”

He quickly shakes his head. “Nein, nothing like that.”

The older woman gives him a knowing smile. “Is that so? Well, feel free to take a look.”

Caleb’s about to thank her for her time and leave when he spots a little crescent moon pendant.

A minute later, he speeds away, his face a little redder and coin purse a little lighter.

\--

He refuses to slow down again until he reaches Caduceus’ house. Rounding to the back, he greets the firbolg in the garden and lets himself in. The silence tells him that the others are still out. Breathing a sigh of relief, he makes his way over to the room in hopes of finding a way to subtly tucking the pendant into Molly’s stash of jewellery before he wakes up.

As he nears the door, he hears hushed voices.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“I was worried, you know?”

“So was I! Don’t you _ever_ do that to me again, you hear me?”

His heart speeds up and it’s only the lessons on manners he received as a child that has him knocking on the door even while in a daze. The voices stop as he opens the door. Inside, he sees Yasha next to the bed as always and Mollymauk—sitting up and awake.

They both pause, half-way done redecorating the tiefling’s horns. Molly perks up and smiles at him. There are still bruises under his eyes but his tail releases Yasha’s thigh momentarily to twist and turn happily in his lap. “Why, if it isn’t Mister Caleb!”

Unable to think of anything else to say with the overwhelming _relief_ thrumming through him, Caleb steps inside and nods. “Hallo, Mollymauk.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus: A bit of Fjorester
> 
> “You okay, Jessie?” Fjord asks quietly as Caleb, Nott, and Beau sit around their hand-drawn map and plan out the best way to trap the bounty hunters.
> 
> Jester looks over and smiles weakly. “I’m fine, Fjord.”
> 
> He arches a brow. “You sure? Look, we went through a lot. It’s okay to not be okay. No one would judge you if you sit this one out.”
> 
> She immediately shakes her head and insists, “No, I want to be there! I _have_ to be there! What if we get ambushed again? What if someone needs _healing_?”
> 
> Fjord pauses. “Hey, Jester, can I tell you a secret?”
> 
> “What is it?”
> 
> “I’m nervous about this too,” he admits, not meeting her eye. “But we know there are people who would risk life and limb to save us—hell, Molly almost did. And this time, we know what we’re getting ourselves into.”
> 
> Jester musters a smile and nods. “Yeah, we know what we’re getting ourselves into. Thanks, Fjord. I feel better. Let’s do this. For Molly.”
> 
> He smiles fondly back at her. “Yeah, for Molly.”


	12. Chapter 12

Crimson eyes widen and suddenly, Mollymauk is as dumbstruck as he feels. “Did you just say hello to me?”

Caleb shrugs. “Ja, I suppose I did.” Remembering himself, he shoves his hands into his pockets, fingers wrapping around the pendant, and asks, “I, uh, how are you feeling, Mister Mollymauk?”

“A little surprised if I’m being honest,” Molly says. He raises his hand to the latest scar on his chest—a thick, jagged thing from the combination of blade and ice. “But other than that, not bad. Sore? In desperate need of a bath?”

“We’ll get you one once Caduceus looks you over,” Yasha says, returning to her task of stringing his horns with jewellery. “And once the others come back.”

Molly arches a brow. “The others, huh? We got really good at that teamwork thing, didn’t we? How long was I out?”

“A couple of days,” Yasha tells him. “Caleb and them were out doing work on our behalf.”

The tiefling looks over. “Were you now?”

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Caleb moves to lean against the wall, keeping his distance from the pair. “Yasha was busy here so we did a little information gathering on your bounty. We did not get very much, and what we do have is with Jester right now.”

Tail wrapping around Yasha’s arm, Molly frowns. “Why don’t you catch me up?”

\--

It doesn’t take long to get Mollymauk back up to speed and soon after, he hears a footsteps rapidly approaching.

The door bursts open and Jester and Nott come running into the room. “Molly! You’re awake!”

“Are you still you!?”

Molly braces himself for impact as the two jump onto his bed and get right up to his face. 

“Are you alright!?”

“What’s the last thing you remember!?”

“Do you need healing!?”

“Do you remember us!?”

“You don’t have to worry about anything, we’re on the case!”

“We’ll crack it wide open!”

Following closely behind, Fjord and Beau enter the room with the monk subtly rubbing her nose to hide a sniffle. “Calm down, you two,” Fjord calls after them half-heartedly. “Maybe give him time to actually answer your questions?”

Molly laughs and wraps his arms around the yelling pair. Falling back onto the bed and pulling them down with him, the two of them go shrieking and laughing. “I didn’t think I would but I’ve missed you detectives!”

Next to him, Beau elbows him and nods towards the yelling trio on the bed. “Not gonna join them?”

He elbows her back and shrugs, smiling privately to himself. “I’m fine here.”

Eventually everyone calms down enough to help Molly out of bed and over to the living room at his request. “Jester, you should show him the note,” Fjord suggests after Molly’s settled on the couch and the pair have been given a plate of food and a cup of tea. “Caleb told you what happened, right?”

“Yeah, sounds like someone’s spending a lot of money on us,” Molly replies a little more solemnly. But then he takes a sip of tea and grins. “At the very least, they seem to have an eye for talent.”

“Oh, I’ve got it right here,” Jester mutters. Digging through her bag for a moment, she pulls out the piece of crinkled parchment and hands it over.

Molly takes one look at it and the rest of his smile disappears. Putting his cup down, he stares at the parchment and says, “Yasha.”

“What’s wrong?” Yasha immediately stops eating and leans over. “Oh. Is that…?”

“Yeah,” Molly sighs. Looking up at the rest of them, he explains, “I recognize this writing.”

\--

“Are you sure you are up for this, Mollymauk?” Caleb asks quietly as their mismatched group walks down the street.

With his colourful coat draped over his shoulders, Molly walks with an arm wrapped protectively around his chest. After another bout of healing, both clerics came to the conclusion that the combination of glaive and ice and blood magic hadn’t done him any favours, and that only time would be able to finish the healing process. With a tight smile, Molly shrugs. “Maybe not, but I’d hate to miss out on all the fun.”

They stop in front of the tavern where a “Closed for Today! Go Away!” sign has been hung up and the group turn to watch the pair expectantly. “Are you sure you don’t want us to go in with you?” Fjord offers one last time.

“Nah, we’re good,” Molly replies with an offhanded gesture. “This should be dealt with...privately. We take care of our own, you know? That goes for the good and the bad.”

“Be careful, okay?” Jester tells them, her eyebrows knitted in concern. “Come straight to me or Caduceus if you need healing after. If I don’t hear from you in three—no, in _two_ hours, I’ll message you!”

Molly smiles and leans down to knock their horns together lightly, an arm and tail looped around Yasha’s elbow for support. “We’ll be fine, dear. These guys taught me everything I know.”

“Don’t worry, Jester,” Yasha adds with a solemn nod. “I’ll take care of him.”

Jester smiles and reaches out to pat her on the arm. “I know you will, but I was talking to you too. Be careful, Yasha.”

She looks taken aback by the words but nods. “Oh. I will. Thank you.”

“Honestly, you get stabbed _one time_ and everyone suddenly forgets you’re the best team in town,” Molly grouses with an exaggerated sigh. Then more softly, he smiles and reassures her, “Don’t you worry, Miss Lavorre. Me and Yasha have each other’s backs. We’ll see you guys in a little bit.”

Then with a jaunty finger wave and a lingering glance back, the pair disappear into Fletching and Moondrop’s.

“I always forget Molly’s new to the game,” Beau mutters.

Nott glances over. “The game of life, you mean?”

She shrugs. “Yeah, and everything else. Man, I’d pay money to watch those guys in action though. Can you imagine? An old circus troupe turned badasses?”

Scoffing, the goblin takes a swig from her flask. “Maybe you should’ve offered to pay to watch then. They seem pretty open to putting on shows for money.”

“Yeah, I should’ve,” Beau grumbles to herself. “Oh well. I’ll get Molly to tell me about it later. What do we do now?”

Caleb straightens his coat. “Well, if you don’t mind, I need to go see Pumat Sol for more—”

“Ink and paper,” Jester and Beau chime in with matching grins. “We know, Caleb. Let’s go.”

\--

He’s in his apartment later, having opted to transcribe a new spell rather than continue shopping with the others, when there’s a knock at the door.

With a start, he carefully finishes the glyph and sets his quill down. Taking care to cap the ink, he gets up and approaches the door warily, knowing very well that Nott and the Ball-Eaters have long since foregone the idea of knocking.

Opening the door, he blinks when he gets an eyeful of colours. “Mollymauk?” he asks, quickly stepping aside to let the tiefling in. When no one else follows, he pokes his head out into the hall. “You came alone?”

Molly lets out a breathy laugh and leans against the wall, arm still wrapped gingerly around his chest. “Why, Mister Caleb, you know I’d _much_ rather come with company.”

Caleb lets out a half-hearted sigh and closes the door. “You are telling me Yasha let you go off on your own?”

The tiefling makes an offhanded gesture toward the window. “Nah, we split up outside. She went to go let Jester know we’re alright. Nott’s not here?”

“That’s good. She was worried. Nott is out with the rest of them.” Locking and bolting the door shut, he turns to face Molly only to be pulled into a searing kiss. “Mollymauk, your injury—”

Heated crimson eyes stare back at him, all earlier traces of laughter gone. “ _Caleb. Please_. I need this.”

Swallowing hard, he nods. “Ja, okay—”

He’s cut off with another kiss and this time he doesn’t hesitate to kiss back.

\--

“It still hurts you,” Caleb mutters, propping himself up on an elbow and running a finger gently over the new scar. The jagged edges feel leathery to the touch and he takes care to keep his touches feather-light.

“Is that why you were so gentle with me today, Mister Caleb? And here I was afraid I’d done something wrong,” Molly says quietly.

He shakes his head. “Nein, not so much that as you just woke up from a near-death injury.” Even as he says that, he remembers the sight of Molly on the ground and Lorenzo pressing the blade in deeper with a laugh. “You should be resting.”

Contently sprawled out on his bed with a lazy smile, Molly glances down and shrugs. “It’ll stop hurting after a couple days. Then it’ll just be another scar. Just another one of many and probably of many more to come.”

His eyes wander up then and the tiefling doesn’t meet his gaze. Although a part of him wants to doubt the words and dig out the hurt until it’s laid bare before him to heal, he doesn’t press the matter, asking instead, “How did it go at the tavern?”

It’s the right thing to say because Molly pulls him down for a kiss. It’s light and affectionate, all of the wild desperation from earlier gone. “It went about as well as you’d expect with a devil toad.”

“What does that even mean?” Caleb mumbles, lifting his head to avoid the onslaught of kisses.

Molly laughs quietly and climbs onto him, moving to pepper his neck with kisses instead. “He tried to grab Toya and run but Bo stopped him and Gustav and Ornna took care of the rest. Don’t worry, Desmond put Toya to sleep with a spell and the twins got her back safely.”

“That is good, ja? Everyone is safe. And did you find out more about your bounty?” he asks, retaliating with his own kisses. Letting his hands wander down the tiefling’s back, he runs his fingers over the ridges at the base of the tail, eliciting a surprised mewl and a shudder.

“Mmm, that’s not fair,” Molly complains, sucking and nibbling at his collarbone. 

Caleb huffs and scratches at the underside of the tail to see what other noises he can draw. He’s far from disappointed when he gets a soft whine in response. “Who said anything about fair? But go on. The bounty?”

“We didn’t get very much. He didn’t know anything. Just some rich mystery man from Rexxentrum.” Molly lets out another gasp and arches his back, chasing the touch as Caleb continues playing with his tail. “He seems interested in unusual magic.”

He pauses in his ministrations. “Unusual magic?”

“Yeah, it’s an accurate description of what me and Yasha can do, I suppose,” the tiefling says. Then squirming a little, he growls, “Caleb, has anyone ever told you how rude it is to tease a tiefling like this? If you don’t continue, I’ll have to do all the work and then you’ll get in trouble with Jester for making me strain myself.”

A chuckle leaves his lips before he can think better of it. “Such a demanding patient you are, Mollymauk.”

Molly arches a brow and grins. “Patient, hmm? I hope you’re planning on doing more than kissing me better.”

“I shouldn’t. You are still injured,” Caleb points out.

“All the more reason for you to do your part and take proper care of me then,” Molly growls into the crook of his neck.

With his hand still wrapped around the tiefling’s tail, he mutters, “This is a terrible idea.”

A laugh. “Oh, the _worst_.”

\--

Curled up against his back in the afterglow of their terrible idea, Molly murmurs, “Yasha was afraid I would wake up empty again.”

It comes out so quietly Caleb almost misses it. Rolling onto his back to turn to look at the tiefling, he asks, “And you? Were you afraid?”

Outside, the early afternoon sun is still shining brightly in the sky and the din of the hustle bustle of the city drifts in through the partially opened window. Molly doesn’t answer him right away, settling instead to shuffle forward to rest his head on his chest. “I didn’t have time then. And if it did happen, I wouldn’t have known. But, I am now—afraid, I mean.”

There’s a waver in his voice and his tail snakes around Caleb’s leg as if that might be enough to keep him safe. A burst of affection and warmth blooms in his heart and it hits him so hard, it leaves him a little dazed.

He shouldn’t be doing this.

But he can indulge himself a little, can’t he?

None of this will matter once he and Nott leave anyway.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it?” Molly mumbles, hiding his face in the crook of his arm.

“Nein.” Reaching out and brushing the hair out of the tiefling’s face, he says again, “Nein, it’s hardly stupid. It sounds like a terrible thing and you have already gone through it first-hand. It is not stupid. But you are safe now, Mister Mollymauk.”

Lifting his gaze to meet his, Molly smiles, soft and sincere, and it steals his breath away. “Somehow, it’s a little easier to believe when you say it. Thank you.”

\--

When he comes to again, it’s to Jester’s voice in his head. “ _Cay-leb, are you there? Is Molly there? Yasha said he went to your place to rest. We’re done and back at Caduceus’ now! It’s time—”_

Blinking the sleep out of his eyes, he glances down to see Molly still asleep on him and smiles softly to himself. “Ja, Jester, he is here,” he replies quietly so as to not disturb the tiefling. “He is resting right now but we will be there.”

Despite his words, Caleb doesn’t make any move to wake Molly up. With one arm still draped over the tiefling’s back, he runs his finger over the other side of the scar, remembering the way Molly’s body had arched up as they extracted the blade.

There’s a soft noise of protest and Molly lifts his head, eyes blinking blearily at him. “Caleb? ‘ut times’it?” he mumbles, his words slurred with sleep.

He can’t help but smile as the tiefling looks around groggily with narrowed eyes.

_Too attached. Stupid man, you just had to go and fall in love. How will you leave? How will you carry out your great plan now?_

“It is four in the afternoon, Mollymauk,” he replies. “Jester and them are waiting for us at Caduceus’.”

Molly makes a face and curls back up against him. “D’we have to go?”

Ignoring the fondness swelling in his heart, he cards a hand through the tiefling’s hair, Caleb replies, “I think you will want to be there for this.”

Reaching up and lacing their fingers together, Molly makes a noncommittal noise and closes his eyes again.

And with a tightness in his chest, he tells himself,

A little longer.

Just a little longer.

\--

Eventually, Molly manages to drag himself out of bed and they make their way back to Caduceus’ house. Along the way, Molly regales him with more details from the confrontation with the informant. 

“I’ve said before, but watching Bo destroy people with his bare hands really is something else,” Molly tells him. “It’s a good thing we didn’t fuck up his fruits any of those times—just each other.”

He narrows his eyes as the tiefling snickers to himself and shoves his hands in his pocket and blinks. “Oh. Mollymauk, here.”

Ruby red eyes blink and look down, instinctively reaching out. “What’s this?”

Caleb drops the pendant in his hand and continues walking. “It was an impulsive buy. I am not too certain myself.”

Molly stops walking and stares uncomprehendingly at the trinket. “Caleb? Come here for a sec.” He turns around and makes a startled noise as he’s pulled into an alleyway and kissed. Molly winces. “Ow. Bad idea but so worth it. Help me put it on.”

In a daze, he does as he’s told.

“It’s gorgeous. Thank you,” Molly says, kissing him again before sauntering back out onto the streets.

Staring after him, it takes a moment for Caleb to snap back to his senses. The delicate silver chain of the pendant looks like wire compared to the thicker Platinum Dragon amulet the tiefling has on, but somehow it fits. And although there is only a single bead of a blue gem set in the crescent, Molly somehow makes it _shine_.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters to himself, following after, cheeks still a little warm.

It’s nothing.

\--

By the time they arrive at Caduceus’, everyone’s gathered in the living room with Lorenzo’s head placed unceremoniously on a plank of wood in the center. There’s an unpleasant smell beginning to form from it and the flesh is starting to rot, but it does little to take away from the feeling of dread that crawls down his spine at the sight of it.

Jester and Nott run over to them. “You made it! I think we have some pretty good questions.”

Beau shrugs. “I don’t know. Yasha said you guys didn’t get very much out of the frog guy, right? So far, we have ‘who do you work for?’ and ‘why did he want them?’ and ‘where is he?’“ 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Fjord says, “They’re pretty basic but it’d be good to know. I guess, worst case scenario, we can go ask the big boss.”

Taking his place by Yasha’s side, Molly makes a face. “I’d rather not. Is that it for questions?”

“Caleb? Did you think of something to ask Lorenzo’s head?” Nott asks.

“I may have some but I would like to see how he answers those first,” Caleb says, rubbing his chin in thought. 

“Okay, we should start then,” Jester says. Then she glances up and says something in Infernal that has Molly tilting his head. “If you want to, I mean.”

Molly considers whatever offer she made and shakes his head. Looping his tail around Yasha’s leg while she reflexively drapes an arm around him and pulls him close, he replies lightly, “Nah, I’m fine here, dear.”

She eyes him a moment longer before nodding. “If you’re sure. Caduceus, do you want to do this or should I?”

Caduceus smiles kindly and steps forward. “I wouldn’t mind getting this one, Jester.”

“Okay.” Looking a little relieved, Jester shrinks back over to the rest of the Ball-Eaters.

Pulling out a stick of incense, Caduceus mutters an incantation and they watch vines growing from the plank of wood up into the head. They creep up underneath the rotten blue skin like veins and Lorenzo’s head suddenly tilts back, his mouth opening with an airless gasp.

Caleb pretends not to notice everyone in the room flinching at the sight. 

The firbolg glances around and gets a round of nods. Softly, he leans forward and says, “Hello, I imagine this isn’t very pleasant so we’ll try to keep it short. We need a few questions answered. Let’s start with: who do you work for?”

There’s a pause then another gasp. “The one who paid me,” Lorenzo says, his voice a ghostly wisp of that deep baritone, but it still manages to send shivers down his spine.

“That’s not very helpful,” Beau mutters. “Is this how he’s going to answer all our questions? Maybe if we’re more specific with our wording? Like, ‘why did the guy who hired you want Nonagon and the Charm?’“

“We can try again,” Caduceus says quietly before turning back to the head and asking, “Why did your benefactor want Nonagon and the Charm?”

“For their own purposes,” Lorenzo’s head answers blankly.

Beau scowls and curses loudly before crossing her arms. “This is a waste of time.”

“I think,” Caleb starts, “it is because he does not see us as people worth talking to. This spell, if I am not mistaken, merely reanimates a spirit. It does not revive it.”

Yasha tilts her head curiously. “What does that mean?”

Caleb frowns at the head. “In our case, it means trouble for us. Reanimated spirits cannot understand new information, so Lorenzo cannot comprehend that we won and survived. He only remembers what he did before his death—which is that he only saw us as ants.”

“I...would we have more luck with me then?” Molly asks reluctantly. They all turn to him and he takes a step away from Yasha, although he stays within arm’s length of her. “One of the last things he said to me was something about respect, wasn’t it? I don’t know if he meant anything by it though.”

Silence sweeps over them as they remember the price of that respect. Eventually, Beau shrugs. “It’s more than what any of us have.” She looks over at him and nods. “He fucked us up but we killed him and cut his head off. He can’t hurt us anymore. Remember that.”

Running a thumb over the scar on his sternum, Molly nods back and steps in front of the head. He hides his trembling hands in his pockets and leans forward. “Hey, I don’t know if you can see me, but this is Nonagon. I need to know some things so tell me: where is your drop off point?”

“Where were you supposed to bring them?” Caduceus asks the head.

Another pause then Lorenzo speaks, “On the outskirts of Rexxentrum, in the northeast, there is a small forest with a hut near a stream.”

The group make a round of surprised noises.

Caleb pulls out his copper wire and whispers to Molly, “If you would not mind, ask if there is a password he uses to confirm his identity.”

Molly glances over and then back to the head. “Do you have a word you use to identify yourself?”

Caduceus repeats the question and the head replies, “They know me.”

“One more question then,” Fjord says, crossing his arms. “Anyone got anything?”

Jester and Beau shake their heads and Nott merely shrugs. 

Putting the wire to his lips once more, Caleb whispers, “Mollymauk...please ask if his benefactor is connected to the Cerberus Assembly.”

Blinking, Molly tilts his head questioningly but he asks nonetheless, “Is the guy who hired you connected to the Cerberus Assembly?”

Lorenzo pauses again before replying, “If you are asking then you know.”

After answering, the head lets out a long sigh and the vines wither away. 

In the ensuing silence that fills the room, Molly returns to Yasha and wraps his arms around her waist. “Rexxentrum then. But we already knew that, didn’t we?”

“You did very good, Mollymauk,” she replies soothingly as she envelops him in a tight hug. “We know where we need to be now. We’ll go once you’re better. Before the storms set in.”

Caleb’s heart speeds up at their words. “What did you say?”

The two turn to him and Molly smiles guiltily. “We need to follow this trail and figure out what’s going on, you know? As funny as it is watching this guy throw money at people to catch us, he’s bound to get lucky again or maybe we’ll just get unlucky. I don’t want to sit around and wait for another Lorenzo or even worse to come.”

“Oh! But we’re also—” Nott pauses and glances over to him questioningly, clearly eager to mention their own plans. He nods and she continues, “We’re also planning on going to Rexxentrum.”

Crimson eyes widen. “Really? Caleb, you too? Why?”

He clears his throat. “There is something I must do there. We had been planning to go there for a while now, actually.”

Beau looks between the two of them and scowls. “What the fuck, guys? And when were you planning on telling us any of this!?”

“Well, I just told you, didn’t I?” Molly points out. “It was something we discussed with Gustav earlier.”

“Is the whole tavern moving then?” Fjord asks.

Yasha shakes her head. “That would be nice but they’re settled here, you know?”

Jester suddenly claps her hands excitedly. “Deucy, it’s just like you said! It looks like we’re all starting a new journey!”

Caduceus smiles. “Sure seems like it. Isn’t that nice?”

Nott’s eyes light up. “Are you coming too, Jester?”

“Well, we were thinking about it because, you know, it wasn’t very cool what happened to us so we wanted to go and show this guy who’s boss. And I think Fjord wanted to check out the big magic academy there too, so maybe? But if you’re all going, I think we definitely should too because I really like you all and I think it’d be really fun to work together!”

“We can be detectives in the big city!” the goblin shouts.

Nodding excitedly, Jester shouts back, “We’ll crack all the cases!”

“Herr Clay, you are leaving as well?” Caleb asks.

The firbolg smiles and nods. “It looks that way. I had a vision from the Wildmother last night. I go where I’m needed and it seems she thinks I’ll be needed with you. Destiny has a funny way of lining things up.”

“I don’t know about destiny, but healers are always a good thing to have around. _And_ you’ve got the best tea in the city,” Molly points out. “You’d certainly be welcomed company.”

He looks around, his mind reeling at this turn of events. “Are we all going to Rexxentrum then?”

Molly grins and leans casually against Yasha, her arms still draped over him. “It sure sounds like it. Looks like you’ll be stuck with us a little longer, Mister Caleb.”

“We’ll need a new name if we’ll be going together,” Beau points out. “Deuces, you can still be Geoff, but we can’t call ourselves ‘the Geoffs’.”

“It’s a dumb name anyway,” Nott chimes in. “Oh, should we all go with normal names this time? I can be Gilligan!”

Yasha makes a thoughtful noise as she looks down for a moment. “I could be...Janet?”

Unable to hide her snickering, Beau shakes her head. “That’s awesome, but I meant a group name. If we’re going to be travelling and working together in Rexxentrum, we’ll need a team name to tell the Gentleman, right?”

“Preferably something less wordy than the Charming Dirty Ball-Eaters,” Fjord quickly adds. “As descriptive as that name is.”

“Nah, it should be something cool and strong-sounding with words like ‘jacked’ or ‘undefeatable’ or ‘mighty’!” Beau says. “How about the ‘Mighty Geoffs’?”

Caleb makes a face at that. “That is going to be a mighty nein from me.”

They all turn to him with matching grins.

“Oh dear.”

\--

He manages to sit through the rest of the discussion before excusing himself and retreating to one of the bedrooms to have his panic attack. Curling up with his head between his knees, he focuses on breathing and not throwing up until Nott comes in. “You alright, Cay-Cay? That was a lot to take in, wasn’t it?”

“I was prepared to say goodbye to all of them,” he replies, his voice still a little wheezy from his attack.

She sits next to him and puts a hand on his back. “And now you don’t have to. We’ll have our friends with us! Isn’t that a good thing?”

Caleb raises his head and looks over. “I don’t know. It has always been just the two of us.”

Nott tilts her head curiously. “That’s true, but lately we’ve been with them a lot more. Do you _like_ being with them, Caleb? If you want us to go alone instead, we _can_. We can leave tonight! We can leave a note telling them not to look for us and disappear!”

He thinks about their lives for the last few days, living together at Caduceus’ and eating together and worrying together. He thinks of Beau’s clumsy attempts at comfort and Fjord’s calm optimism and Jester’s much more vocal optimism. He thinks of Caduceus’ relaxed demeanor even in the face of peril and Yasha’s silent presence, so much livelier now with her partner back up.

He thinks of Mollymauk…

“Nein, I like them just fine,” Caleb tells her. “I would not ask them to come with us, but if they happen to be going anyway then I would rather not be without them. As you said, they are our friends and there is strength in numbers. We will go together.”

“Really?” Nott asks, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. At once, he knows he made the right decision. “I mean, if you ever change your mind, we can always leave them behind. I love you, Caleb. I’ll always go where you go. I’ll always have your back.”

Caleb smiles then and pulls the goblin into a hug. “I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Nott the Brave.”

\--

When they emerge from the room, they find the rest of the group sitting around the living room with a map flattened out between them. Jester has her finger on the map, pointing at a specific spot. “I don’t know, it might take a little longer but Hupperdook sounds like a lot of fun. Even the name sounds fun!”

“I’ve heard the parties there are _insane_ ,” Beau chimes in helpfully.

Sitting cross-legged on the couch, Molly perks up. “Yeah? You had me at ‘party’.”

“How about we ask the Gentleman if he has any jobs along the way and pick our route from there?” Fjord suggests. “Besides that, we still need to figure out what we’re gonna do in Rexxentrum.”

“With so many of us, renting rooms at an inn is probably a bad idea,” Jester says. “I like what Caleb and Nott have here. Maybe if we get a big house, we can all be housemates!”

“That sounds great but I don’t know if we can afford something like that in the capital,” Fjord points out. “We make good money, but I don’t know if it’s enough to buy a _house_.”

“We’ll also need a way to collect information without looking like we’re going out of the way to do it. I mean, I can sit in a bar and drink all day, but that gets a little tiring,” Molly adds.

Yasha nods. “Living at the tavern was helpful. We had work and information, but they were all in on it, you know?”

“Didn’t Mister Shakäste say he lived in Rexxentrum?” Caduceus asks.

Beau perks up. “Yeah, he did! Maybe we can bum at his place for a little bit until we get something together.”

Stepping into the living room, the group all stop and turn to them. Jester smiles and gestures for them to join in. “Cay-leb, are you feeling better? We were just trying to figure out how to get started in Rexxentrum.”

“You said you’ve been planning this for a while, right?” Molly asks. “I assume you had something planned for the move as well?”

With an encouraging smile from Nott, Caleb nods, fidgeting with the bandages around his arms. “Ja, I do. If you are all amenable, I may have a way to get some extra support from our mutual benefactor.”

Beau grins and turns to the others. “I don’t know, what do you think, _Mighty Nein_?”

“You have our full support, Mister Caleb,” Molly says, raising his teacup. With a wink, he adds, “Just tell us what to do and I think you’ll find us _very_ eager to listen.”

Caleb arches a brow and huffs, stifling a smile. “Is that so, Mister Mollymauk?”

“Gods, keep it in your pants, you two,” Beau complains loudly. “Save it for the capital.”

Jester laughs and clutches Fjord’s arm. “We’re really going to Rexxentrum! I need to tell my mom!”

Watching the Mighty Nein chat excitedly amongst themselves, Caleb smiles to himself.

Attached.

Too attached.

But, maybe he can indulge himself just a little longer…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for Zadash! I think I'll work on some other stuff I've been meaning to do then we'll get right back to hitmen shenanigans! Thanks for reading and hope y'all had fun :))


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